


One of Five

by klaineanummel



Series: A Night With the King [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dubious Consent, Infidelity, M/M, Multiple Partners, Power Dynamics, Very serious dubious consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:58:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 52,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6990100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klaineanummel/pseuds/klaineanummel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when he got used to his life in the castle, Blaine Anderson, concubine of the King, once again has the rug pulled out from under his feet. Now he is being forced to face the reality of life as one of five concubines, as well as the guilt over his growing friendship with the King's son, Crown Prince Kurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Welcome to part three of A Night With the King!!! For those of you who have stuck around waiting for Klaine, your time has arrived! I'm very excited to share this particular section of this verse with everybody, as so far it's been the funnest one for me to write :) Please note that I have updated [ the warnings masterpost for this series ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost) with the extended warnings for this particular fic, but as a general warning please be aware that this particular fic begins a more in-depth view of the issues of dubious consent in this universe. As well, there is one particular scene in this fic that will most likely be squick-y, and possibly triggering, for a lot of people, but because I don't want to spoil it I will only be adding the warnings for it after I have posted chapter eleven (the chapter before the scene takes place). If you are worried about what this might be, please message me privately on [ my tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com). That being said, this fic is very Klaine heavy, so at least there's that ;)
> 
> A big thank you, as always, goes to my amazing beta mailroomorder, who helped me out a shit-ton with this fic. You're the best <3
> 
> I will be updating this fic every Friday and Monday. I hope you all enjoy!

Sebastian starts shouting the minute the door has shut behind Sue and Mason.

“Are you _fucking kidding me_?!” he shouts, standing up from the couch and gesturing wildly at the door. “Sue?! _Sue_?! He doesn’t call on anybody but Virginal Little Submissive over there for _months_ and the first person he calls after is _Sue_?!”

Blaine looks away from the outburst to the door Mason and Sue have just exited from. He licks his lips, his throat becoming dry.

“Sebastian, calm down,” Will says, raising from his own spot on the couch. Blaine folds his legs under himself on the chair he’s been occupying. He looks from the door to his own lap.

“No, fuck you Will,” Sebastian spits, and Blaine winces at the harshness in his tone. “Do you know how long I’ve had to sit around here, waiting, _hoping_ , that one day I’ll get called back? That he’ll get tired of his new toy and come back to me?” Blaine can hear him pacing, and Blaine begins to trace invisible patterns on his thigh.

It had been such a good day.

“Um,” the soft voice, quiet and nervous, shaky, as though about to break, surprises Blaine. He looks up and sees Emma staring at Will, her already huge eyes bigger than normal. “Does… Does this mean…?” She can’t seem to bring herself to say it, whatever it is she wants to say.

Blaine doesn’t think he’s heard Emma speaking above her quiet whispers to Brittany at dinner. He’s surprised at how sweet her voice sounds, despite it’s wobbly quality.

“No,” Will says, putting a hand on her shoulder. The contact seems to calm her, though Blaine can see there are still tears pooling in her eyes. “No, it doesn’t. If it does, we’ll just do what we did before, okay? I’ll go in your place. This won’t change anything.”

“It won’t - Will,” Sebastian has his hands on his hips. “He just called on Sue. He _never_ calls on Sue. I’ve been here for _three years_ and I think I’ve seen him call on Sue four times.”

“So?” Will asks, eyes hard, both hands now on Emma’s shaking shoulders.

“So this obviously _means_ something,” Sebastian says, pacing again. “He - It doesn’t make sense! Why would he go from Baker Boy to _Sue_?!”

Brittany snorts, and Blaine sees that she has not even looked up from the book she’d been reading. “You’re just jealous he didn’t call on you.”

“Am I?” Sebastian asks, voice higher pitched. “Am I jealous, Brittany? You’re going to lecture me on jealousy, _you_ , who has barely given the Prince the time of day? You?”

“Stop it, Sebastian,” Will spits. “You need to take a walk.”

Blaine keeps his eyes on Brittany, who has set her jaw. She stands up, dropping the book on her chair and gives Sebastian a cold glare.

“Don’t ever compare what happened to me to what is happening to you,” she says. “Another concubine being called upon is part of our lives. What Kurt did to me -”

“I want to be King, too!” Sebastian shouts, arms raising above his head. “What is happening to me is _exactly_ what happened to you, don’t you see that? We’re _both_ being screwed out of what we want, what we were _promised_.”

Brittany shakes her head, eyes still hard and voice icy. “The King never promised you anything.”

Sebastian scoffs and shakes his head, turning and starting to pace again. “It’s just - it’s so fucking -” he turns to Blaine, his eyes dancing across Blaine’s face hysterically. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

Blaine parts his lips, surprised. “What?” he asks, trying to keep up with what is happening.

“Having him taken from you,” Sebastian says. “Him not wanting you anymore after everything. After months, nay, _years_ , in my case, only to be discarded like yesterday’s trash, only to be called on every now and then when he thinks ‘oh yeah, whatever happened to them?’”

“I said stop, Sebastian,” Will interjects, voice raised. “That’s not what’s happening here. Just because the King called on Sue it doesn’t mean that Blaine isn’t his favourite anymore.”

Sebastian scoffs. “We’ll see,” he glares at Will, then storms out of the room. Blaine watches him go, a weight settling on his heart.

He isn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t given any warning. For as long as he’s been in the castle it’s only been him visiting the King. He hasn’t been eased into this situation, has never had to think about the King calling on another concubine. He has been completely and utterly blindsided by this.

Sebastian is right. It hurts.

Blaine stands up slowly. “I… I think I’m going to go for a walk,” he says, marking his place with a bookmark and placing the book on the small table placed in the middle of the couches.

“Do you want me to join you?” Brittany asks, and for a moment Blaine considers it. There’s a nagging thought in the back of his mind, wondering about her fight with Sebastian and her relationship with the Prince. Part of him wants to ask her about it, clear up a curiosity he’s held for months, but ultimately he decides he wants to be alone. He shakes his head but smiles his thanks.

He glances at Will and Emma, who are now curled up on the couch together, whispering almost frantically. Emma has tears streaming down her face and Will shakes his head every other second. He’s curious about Brittany, but it’s a safe curiosity, one he knows one day will be resolved. Emma’s anxiety, the strange closeness she shares with Will… he doesn’t want to touch any of that.

He heads out to the garden briskly. The air is warm and in a way it slightly eases the invisible anchor that has sunk into his heart.

As always the garden is lovely, and thankfully it works well to distract him. Still, even when he is thinking of the beautiful flowers along the path, the trees bathed in sunlight, he feels entirely conscious of his heart within his chest. He soon finds a small section of the garden with a sitting area, a fountain in the center surrounded by tulips.

Blaine sits on one of the benches, sighing heavily as he does.

He’s being silly. Will is right, just because the King calls upon Sue does not mean that he no longer likes Blaine. The thought alone is entirely illogical.

He hasn’t been logical, though. He hasn’t stopped to think, even for a moment, that things cannot always go how they have been. He’s grown so used to his time with the King, grown so fond of him. He doesn’t think he loves the King, isn’t sure he will ever be able to, given the circumstances, but he doesn’t hate him. Far from it. He was actually starting to feel as though they were becoming friends.

They still are. He shakes his head. Everything feels confusing, and he is worried he will soon get caught up in his own head.

Instead he tries to focus on the beauty around him. It’s why he came out here in the first place. The sweet aroma of the flowers flood his nostrils, the quiet gurgling of the water flows through his ears, and his eyes…

Every time he walks in the garden it’s a treat to his eyes. The gardeners (and sometimes himself, he thinks proudly, when Mercedes allows him to help) keep it in such marvelous condition, and it is so vast and wide that even after months of being here he still feels as though he has not explored it all.

This is a favourite spot of his, though. It is close enough to the castle that he can come with little fear that if the King needs him he will not be found, but still far enough away to give the illusion of privacy. He knows this garden is tended to in the mornings, and for some reason it is not very popular, so often he has the entire place to himself, as he does now.

He sighs again, this time in content. Just being here is slowly easing the illogical burden on his heart.

“Out for a walk?”

Blaine turns in surprise at the sound of the voice, eyes widening when he sees the Prince approach him with a smile on his face. Blaine hurries to stand and bows, whispering, “Your Highness,” as he does.

“Please, sit,” the Prince gestures to the bench and Blaine hurries to comply. The Prince closes the short distance between them and settles on the bench as well.

Blaine feels as though his heart might beat right out of his chest. He has not been this close to the Prince since the Prince apologized unnecessarily months ago. He forgot how beautiful he was up close. He’s wearing his riding clothes, and they are slightly disheveled, boots flecked with mud. There’s even a small speck of mud on the tip of his nose. He’s still absolutely stunning though.

“It’s so interesting,” the Prince says, eyes on the fountain while Blaine can’t seem to tear his eyes away from him. “I see you on almost a daily basis, and yet we have never held a real conversation.”

Blaine swallows thickly, heart, if anything, beating faster. “I -” is all he can manage to say.

The Prince turns to him and he’s smiling, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Unless of course you don’t really wish to speak with me and have stealthily been avoiding making contact.”

Blaine is shaking his head before the Prince finishes speaking. “Of course not, Your Highness,” he hurries to say. “I - I would much like to be in your acquaintance,” he admits. He looks down at his lap and shrugs. “But…”

“But you’re only a concubine and I am the Crown Prince?” the Prince finishes for him. Blaine chances a glance up at him and sees him smiling, a warmth in his eyes that Blaine does not feel he has yet earned. “I remember your complaints about my apologizing to you.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Blaine says, though he is not quite sure what he is apologizing for.

“No need,” the Prince says, raising a hand to stop Blaine from speaking. He sits in silence for several minutes, eyes going back to the fountain. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“What is that, Your Highness?” Blaine asks, knowing full well he sounds much to eager.

“I think that there are barely any people in this castle my age. Even less that are willing to speak with me as candidly as you have.”

“Beg pardon, Your High-”

“No, it’s good,” the Prince turns to him, the smile returning to his face. “I know you think that you are below me, but think of it this way: at any time my father could decide that he is finally ready to marry again. If that happens, he will most likely choose a concubine as his consort, and he has made no secret that you are his favourite. So, really, you could very soon be higher ranked than me,” the mischievous sparkle is back in his eye and he leans over to bump their shoulders together. “I would have to call you ‘Your Majesty’.”

Blaine can’t help but laugh gently at the image. He shakes his head and closes his eyes, tilting his head back slightly so that the sun may better warm his skin. “I do not wish to be King, Your Highness.”

“No?” the Prince sounds surprised at that. “Most concubines do.”

“I would be terrible at it,” he admits quietly. “I do not have a single political bone in my body.”

“I highly doubt that. We all have at least one political bone in our body,” Blaine cracks on eye open to look at the Prince, who has copied him and now has his head leaned back, face to the sun. It illuminates his pale skin and brings out the natural blond highlights in his hair. Blaine has to look away before he gets too caught up in this beautiful man.

“Not I,” Blaine says quietly, eyes now on his own feet, covered in a beautiful pair of leather sandals the King had gifted him on his third month anniversary of arriving in the castle.

“I don't know,” the Prince says softly. “My father tells me it was you who eased his worries about my engagement.”

“That is not a matter of politics, but a matter of the heart,” Blaine clarifies. “Your father was not worried he had made the correct political move. He was worried he had put you in a difficult position of choosing between your heart and his desires for political unity.” Blaine shrugs. “I simply told him that if you had agreed, it must mean your heart was with him. Besides, I assured him you would eventually grow to love your betrothed, if not romantically at least in a deeply platonic way.”

He feels the Prince’s eyes on him and his cheeks burn.

“How do you know?” the Prince asks. “That I will grow to love the Prince of Essex?”

Blaine shrugs, a finger beginning to play with the loose pant area around his thigh. “I, too, was once engaged to a man I was not sure of,” he admits. His heart clenches at the thought of David, his best friend, the man he thought he was meant to spend his life with.

“And you grew to love him?” the Prince asks softly, his hand coming to rest atop Blaine’s hand. Blaine jumps in surprise, head turning to look at the prince, goosebumps rising over the entirety of his body.

The Prince’s hands are so soft.

Reluctantly, Blaine removes his hand from under the Prince’s. It would not do well for them to be discovered together like this.

“It does not matter,” Blaine says, looking past the fountain and to the trees. “I am here now.”

The Prince does not answer for a while, and Blaine chances a glance his way, finding him staring at him with sympathy in his eyes.

“You did love him,” he whispers when their eyes meet. Blaine purses his lips, not wanting or knowing how to reply. The Prince looks as though he is sincerely upset over Blaine having to break his engagement with a man he loved to live in the palace. “I'm sorry,” he says, confirming Blaine's suspicions of his feelings. “I did not even know you had been engaged.”

Blaine feels his lips curving into a smile. “How would you know?” he asks, hoping his teasing attitude will change the topic.

The Prince shrugs. “I am close with my father. He tells me most things.”

Blaine's cheeks heat up at the memory of the Prince teasing him so many months ago. _You_ are _polite._

The Prince looks away from Blaine and past the fountain. “He did not tell me Will was married when he took him as a concubine either,” he whispers. “I had to learn it from Brittany.”

Blaine raises his eyebrows in surprise. He had not known that either.

He does not know how to reply to the admission. The feelings that came behind it obviously ran far deeper than Blaine could even begin to comprehend. Besides, he’s the King’s concubine. He doesn't feel he is the most appropriate person for the Prince to be discussing his feelings of grievance toward his father with.

Blaine clears his throat and stands. “I should be returning,” he says. He stands before the Prince and bows. “Thank you for your company, Your Highness.”

The Prince rises as well. He places a hand on Blaine's arm and Blaine's heart skips a beat.

“Thank you for the conversation, Blaine,” he says, smiling kindly. “I would very much like to speak with you again. Perhaps we could go riding sometime?” His smile grows wider, almost proud. “I heard you are becoming quite the rider.”

Blaine nods even though he knows it is a bad idea. “It would be an honour to ride with you, Your Highness.”

The Prince nods, squeezes Blaine's arm once, and then sits down on the bench once more, allowing Blaine to leave.

Blaine walks away slowly, knowing he must leave before he admits to more intimate details of his life to this near stranger, but desperately wishing to stay. The Prince’s presence is utterly intoxicating to him, though, and Blaine knows it will be safer for him if he leaves.

He is about to turn the corner back onto the main path when he hears the Prince calling, “Blaine!”

Blaine turns to see the Prince smiling at him with so much warmth it makes his insides melt. “I think you sell yourself short. You may not want to be, but I think you would make an excellent consort.”

Blaine's lips part in surprise at the kind compliment. He stands frozen for several moments, unable to think of the appropriate response to such nice words from such a kind hearted man.

He bows, finally, and says, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

The Prince bows only his head and replies, “You're welcome, Your Majesty.”

Blaine blushes bright red, though he can't help but smile. He glances around to make sure nobody has heard, then bows once more and then actually begins his walk back to the castle. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, as it had when he first arrived. This time, however, it does not feel heavy. In fact, it feels light enough to lift right out of his chest and fly away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/145022078190/one-of-five-113)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday everybody :) As always, please keep [ the warnings for this fic ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost) in mind before reading. This one is pretty tame (though there is a bit of masturbation if that squicks ya). Hope you enjoy :)

Sue does not join them for dinner, and Blaine wonders if the other concubines felt how he currently feels every time _he_ missed a dinner because he was with the King.

Most of the meal is spent in silence, Sebastian glaring at Blaine and Will alternately throughout. Brittany attempts to start up conversations occasionally, but it is obvious that the air is too tense.

Blaine is just about to stand up and excuse himself, the first time he will do so before the mysterious Bryan does, when a voice he has never heard before slurs, “Jeez, was it something I said?”

Blaine turns in shock to see the mysterious Bryan himself staring at all of them in confusion, his flask raised to his lips.

Nobody replies. Bryan snorts.

“It’s because of this one, right?” he asks, pointing at Blaine. “Because he’s here, and Sue isn’t.”

Blaine feels his throat tighten. He stands and whispers, “Excuse me,” to everybody else at the table.

“What?” Bryan asks, loud, as Blaine hurries out of the room. Just as he closes the door to the hallway leading to his chambers, he hears Elliott say, “Okay, I think you’ve had enough today.”

Blaine goes to the water closet and splashes water on his face, trying to get himself to snap out of it. He stares at his reflection in the mirror.

_Who am I?_

He’s never been jealous. The only time he ever experienced that emotion was when he found out at the age of nine that the Prince had, indeed, taken his first concubine at fourteen. Since then the emotion simply hasn’t manifested itself in him. He and David used to have long conversations about the different men they found attractive, as well as the women, and never once did it spark jealousy in his stomach.

It’s an odd thing, too. Because a mere hour earlier Blaine was sitting on a bench in the gardens with the Prince, feeling more alive than he has in the five months he has lived here. Where was his jealousy then? How is it possible that a short conversation with the Prince could override the intense feelings currently coursing through his body?

He heads to his room, throws his dirty clothes into a pile, slips into his sleep clothes, and curls up under the covers, drawing the curtains by his window and around his bed closed. He shuts his eyes tightly and tries to push away the thoughts of what the King and Sue might be doing at this very moment.

He tosses and turns for several minutes, wanting to scream in frustration. Everything is a mess in his head and in his heart, and the only things he knows for sure is that he is most definitely feeling jealous of Sue and he cannot get the memory of the Prince’s soft hand on his out of his mind.

He lies on his back and spreads his legs, allowing the thought of the Prince and his soft hands to overrun the thoughts of Sue and the King. He thinks of the kindness of the Prince, of his humility and sincerity. He thinks of his desire to befriend Blaine despite being many ranks above him. He thinks of him telling Blaine he would be a good monarch.

He thinks of his hands. His hands on Blaine’s hand, on his arm. How soft they would feel trailing up Blaine’s jaw, stroking his neck, rubbing up and down Blaine’s sides.

Blaine kicks his sleep pants off and brings his hand down to his hardening cock. He strokes himself quickly, feeling no need to make this last. He is jealous and angry and aroused beyond belief, and the only thing in his mind is the Prince. He can only image his lilting voice whispering sweet nothings in his ear as he uses those wonderful hands to prepare Blaine for him. Sees as clear as day the Prince holding onto Blaine’s hips as Blaine bounces on his cock, head thrown back in pleasure as he makes the Prince moan.

He imagines shouting the Prince’s name; not Your Highness, not Crown Prince, but _Kurt_.

He gasps, hand speeding up over himself.

_Kurt, Kurt, Kurt._

He comes with a choked off moan, faster than he has in months, heart pounding, entire body shaking with the force of it.

He slowly removes his hand from his cock as he begins to feel sensitive, and wipes it on the sheets. He hurries out of bed and to the water closet to clean himself off, then puts on a new sleep shirt, decides to forgo the pants, and curls back under the covers, this time on the opposite side of the bed.

He spends the rest of the night regretting this moment of weakness, unable to fall asleep as feelings of guilt wrack his body.

In the past he has been able to justify thinking of the Prince, and David on occasion, as he gives himself pleasure because his fantasies are always accompanied by images of the King.

Not tonight. Tonight it was only his hand and the Prince. The Prince he had allowed himself to call by his Christian name, something he rarely allowed himself to do with the King.

By the time he finally managed to drift off to sleep, many hours after his indulgence, he finds himself thinking that no wonder the King chose Sue instead of him.

He can’t even be faithful to him in his mind.

**

Blaine arrives late to breakfast and finds most of the food already gone. He picks up a couple of scones and a glass or orange juice and heads to his favourite chair, where the book he is currently reading is still sitting.

He reads and eats, alone in the common room. It's peaceful and quiet, and Blaine is thankful for his solitude. He knows any of the other concubines would bring up what happened with Bryan, and Blaine really does not want to talk about it.

Especially with Sebastian, who most likely spent his entire evening cackling with delight over Blaine feeling just as jealous and petty as Sebastian does.

The doors open and Blaine looks up from his book to see Sue walking in, wearing the same clothes as the day before, with several large love bites over her neck. She gives him a tight smile, grabs some food from the table, and heads to her quarters.

Blaine’s throat goes dry as he watches her go, eyes unable to leave the bruises the King’s mouth left on her neck. He’s had those same bruises so many times. In fact, he is sure there is still one healing near his collarbone.

When she closes the door behind her he snaps his book shut, not even caring to mark the page, and puts it back on the shelves. He goes back to his chambers and changes into his riding clothes. Hopefully riding will clear his mind in better ways than his ‘walk’ in the gardens yesterday did.

**

Lady Hudson is brushing Daisy’s mane when Blaine arrives, and he smiles at the sight of her. He has been so grateful over the past few months for the time and care she has put into his riding education, and he is sure that with any other teacher he would still be unable to even mount a horse.

“Blaine,” she greets when she catches sight of him, eyes smiling just as obviously as her lips. “How lovely to see you.”

“You as well, Lady Hudson,” he says. She shakes her head fondly, though she has to know by now that Blaine will not call her Carole as she so often insists. It just does not feel right.

 _It felt right enough to call the Prince ‘Kurt’ during your dirty fantasy last night_.

Blaine blushes at the thought and pastes a smile on his face. “Going for a ride as well?”

“I just returned from one,” she admits, dropping the brush into a small basket by Daisy’s stable. “I was unable to take Daisy, unfortunately, but had to come say hello before I return to the castle,” she gives him a once over and then, in a sly voice, says, “I’m surprised to see you out and about.”

“Why is that?” he asks, stepping forward and petting Daisy’s neck.

Lady Hudson glances around the stable to make sure they are alone, then leans in and whispers, “I heard that you were called to the King’s chambers last night. I can’t imagine it must be comfortable to ride after… well, that.”

Blaine’s heart stutters and his cheeks burn. “Um,” is all he seems to manage to say in response.

“I’m sorry,” Lady Hudson says, taking a step back. “How terribly rude of me. It’s just, sometimes I forget…” she trails off, eyes going to Daisy, eyes filling with an emotion Blaine can’t quite decipher.

“No need for apologies,” he says, fingers drifting softly over Daisy’s sleek fur. “But, um. I wasn’t called by the King last night.”

Her eyes are surprised when they go to his. “Oh? But I heard the King was entertaining a concubine.”

“He was,” Blaine says, throat once again becoming dry. “Sue.”

“Oh,” Lady Hudson repeats, her eyes widening. Then, softer, sympathetic, “Oh, Blaine.”

He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright,” he says, though it does not feel like the truth. “I was hoping to take Daisy out for a short while. For the, um. The distraction.”

Lady Hudson reaches out and pats his arm, letting her hand linger there. “I understand,” she says, eyes so full of empathy that Blaine briefly feels like she really does. “I’ll leave you.”

She squeezes his arm and bows her head lightly. He bows as well, then opens the door to Daisy’s stable and begins preparing her to ride.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [rebloggable on tumblr](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/145175630155/one-of-five-213)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone :) Hope you all had a wonderful week! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, although to be honest it's mostly exposition. As always, please keep [ the warnings for this fic ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost) in mind, although this chapter is pretty mild, warning-wise. Happy Friday everybody!

He does not expect the King to call on him that very day. The King is not insatiable by any means, and often waits three or four days before calling upon a concubine again.

Still, he is disappointed when he goes to sleep without being called upon, and even more so when he is woken up by the sun rather than Mason shaking him awake.

He skips breakfast in the concubine quarters, instead taking the servant halls to the kitchen where he and Rachel make blueberry pancakes and eat them out on the hall in order to avoid Shelby’s wrath.

“I heard something,” Rachel tells him as he polishes off his third pancake. “A rumour.”

Blaine takes a drink of his water. “Let me guess,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “You heard the King called upon a concubine that wasn’t me. I know, it’s the talk of the castle.”

She shakes her head. “Another rumour,” she says.

“Oh,” Blaine leans closer to her. “Please, share.”

“As you know, I am good friends with one of the Prince’s pages.”

Blaine nods, smirking a little. He knows very well that she and Finn are more than mere friends.

“Well, the other day the King came to visit the Prince while Finn was drawing him a bath,” she leans closer as well, lowering her voice to a whisper. “They were speaking of the Prince’s engagement to the Prince of Essex.”

“Is that the rumour?” Blaine asks. “I thought that arrangement was well known.”

“It is, and it’s not,” she waves a hand to shush him. “No, what’s important is what comes next. While they were talking about the Prince’s engagement,” she pauses as another servant walks past them carrying a basket full of blankets. She watches her go, then continues. “The King mentioned that he might be looking to become engaged as well.”

Blaine’s heart stops in his chest. “What?” he asks, voice hoarse.

She nods. “Finn overheard him saying ‘Perhaps it is time that I find a consort as well’.”

Blaine falls away from her, his head hitting the stone wall with a painful _thud_.

“Of course, he could have just been thinking aloud,” Rachel quickly says, and Blaine finds himself shaking his head.

“I think he was serious,” Blaine whispers, thinking of his conversation with the Prince and how quickly it had turned to Blaine becoming the King’s consort. “I think… I think he wants to marry.”

She squeals, though thankfully it is a quiet squeal. “Oh, that’s just wonderful, isn’t it Blaine? You’ll be King!”

He sits up, eyes wide. “What? What makes you think he will ask me?”

She scoffs. “Please, Blaine, it’s very obvious that you’re his favourite,” she rolls her eyes. “Besides, it is common for a King or Queen to choose a concubine as a consort. You know this as well as anybody.”

“His first wife was not a concubine.”

“And that was incredibly rare,” she says. “My mother was only a girl when he and his first wife first married, and she said it caused quite the scandal. It had always been assumed that he would choose Sue.”

Blaine pauses. “Really?”

She nods. “They were quite close, when they were younger. She was his first concubine, after all.”

“Perhaps he will choose her now,” Blaine says, heart racing, though he does not know if it is in hope or in despair. “He did call on her.”

“For the first time in, what, a year?” Rachel shakes her head. “Blaine, you’re his _favourite_. It has to be you!”

Blaine looks down at his empty plate. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Rachel,” he says. “The pancakes and the gossip.”

“Blaine,” she puts her hand on his wrist and he looks up. “Do you… Do you not want to be King?”

He bites his bottom lip. “I am not sure,” he says quietly. “I’ve… I’ve never thought of it.”

It’s a lie, of course. A large part of his childhood was spent dreaming of becoming the Prince’s consort. And back in Westerville, just before his move to the castle, he and David discussed the possibility that he may eventually become King.

He can’t help but wonder why he is lying to Rachel, who has become a close friend over the past few months, and yet he was so open with the Prince, whom he has spoken to twice in his life.

“Well, you should start thinking about it now,” she says. She takes his plate. “I should probably get back before my mother murders me for slacking off.”

“Of course,” Blaine nods and stands. “I should go as well.”

“Thank you for joining me for breakfast,” she says, leaning in to give him a peck on the cheek. “Promise you’ll still visit me when you’re King?”

“I’m not going to be-”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waves a dismissive hand, which she seamlessly turns into a wave goodbye. “Run along now.”

Blaine shakes his head, unable to stop a smile from spreading over his face. He waves goodbye as well and waits until she has disappeared into the kitchen before he starts his walk back to the concubine quarters.

The fond smile for Rachel fades the farther from the kitchen he gets. This piece of seemingly inane gossip coupled with his conversation with the Prince really can mean only one thing, and that is that King is, in fact, looking to take a consort.

Blaine pushes open the small door leading into the concubine quarters, heart heavy.

It can’t be a coincidence that the King stopped calling upon Blaine at the same time that he decided to take a consort. It just can’t be.

“Hey, Blaine,” Brittany greets him from a couch. He nods in her direction, but does not otherwise engage in conversation.

 _You’re jumping to conclusions_ he tells himself as he heads to his room. _Don’t fall into this again. Don’t get caught up in your own head_.

He still slips into his bed and pulls the curtains around it closed. Filling his schedule has worked well for him so far, in regards to distracting himself, but sometimes the best way to avoid thinking about something is to just not think at all.

**

He spends most of the day sleeping, and thankfully still manages to sleep through the night as well. The next morning he refuses to do it again, however, and so after a short breakfast eaten with Brittany, he heads off to find Mercedes in the gardens.

He shadows her for most of the day, watching as she waters the flower beds and prunes the bushes. She keeps a spirited conversation going, and Blaine is glad for it. When they aren’t talking about gardening she’s talking about her sweetheart, a boy named Matt who lives in the capital and whom she plans to marry as soon as he is given full control of his father’s shoemaking business.

The stories make him think of David and how his parents were planning to retire soon so that Blaine and David could take over. Thankfully, the pain is less than it has been in the past. Time must be starting to dull the ache for home. He is thankful for it.

He listens intently and tries to focus on Mercedes rather than on himself. Soon enough it is getting late and Mercedes is saying goodbye and thanking him for keeping her company.

Blaine decides to stay out in the gardens for a little longer, knowing the sunset must be coming soon. He wanders the path, pausing every now and again to admire a particularly beautiful tree, bush, or flower. Everything still feels new to him, and is just as awe inducing as it was the first time he walked these paths.

Just as the sun begins to set he hears a voice from down the path that causes his heart to speed up in his chest. Without thinking he scurries off the road and hides behind a tree, just in time to see the Prince and Finn--Rachel’s ‘friend,’--walk past him, chatting animatedly about the ride they were just on.

Blaine watches the Prince go, heart aching with what feels dangerously close to longing. He wants to step out, clear his throat, engage the Prince in conversation again. He wants more than anything to become the Prince’s friend, as the Prince said he wanted.

And yet he stays behind his tree, watching quietly as the Prince and his page disappear down the path. He knows what he’s feeling, has felt this way before, and he knows that he cannot afford it. Not here, not now, and especially not with _him_. The last time he spoke with the Prince he experienced a moment of weakness and he will be damned if he is going to let it happen again.

Only when he no longer hears the Prince’s voice does he step back onto the path. He walks back to the castle slowly, wanting as much space as possible between himself and the Prince.

It isn’t until he has reached the castle and is heading down the path leading to the entrance to the concubine quarters that he realizes that he’s spent so much time trying not to think of the Prince that he has entirely missed the sunset.

**

A week passes and still the King does not call upon him. Blaine tries to think positively, but with each passing day it becomes harder and harder.

In the past few months rarely did the King go for longer than three days without calling on Blaine. He knows the King is busy, what with being the King and all, but he still cannot help but feel as though something is wrong.

He takes to spending as much time as possible in the common room, pretending to read but spending most of his time staring at the double doors leading to the rest of the castle. He keeps hoping to see Mason step through them and ask Blaine to accompany him, or for a servant to appear with a message asking Blaine to go to the King’s quarters as soon as possible.

With every passing day his hope dwindles. He tries to keep his thoughts positive. He tells himself the King is simply busier than usual. He thinks there is a war going on between neighbouring kingdoms, and the King is trying his best to keep the peace. That must be taking up a large amount of his time. Plus, he is also planning the Prince’s wedding, which Blaine imagines must be happening soon. It’s been months since the engagement was finalized, after all.

Despite his tries, he still can’t help the anxiety from slipping through the cracks. He begins to worry that the King has grown bored with him. That Blaine, thinking he was doing what he knew the King liked best, was really just placing him in a rut, and now he wants something different. He wonders if the King has found somebody else, a new concubine, younger and prettier like Sebastian said. He begins to glance at the large doors with a mix of dread and hope, wanting nothing more than to see Mason coming to ask for him, but worried that Mason may arrive accompanied by a young man or woman.

On the tenth day since Sue was called, Blaine begins to fear the worst: the King has discovered that Blaine made love with David before coming to the castle and is planning on banishing him back to Westerville.

He tries to tell himself that he’s being silly, but nothing else makes sense. The King is not insatiable, no, but he does have a healthy sexual appetite, one that Blaine has grown to quite enjoy. Blaine wonders if, perhaps, during a moment of blissed out pleasure he accidentally let his deepest secret slip. Or worse, what if his actual love making got mixed up with his nightly fantasies and instead of calling out the King’s name he called out David’s. Or, he cringes at the mere thought, heart stopping in his chest, the Prince’s.

Nothing seems to stop his growing anxiety and fear. He cannot focus on his reading, and every time he begins to go to the kitchens, the stables, or simply for a walk in the gardens, he worries he will miss an important message from the King.

He knows the others are beginning to worry about him. Brittany hovers awkwardly, obviously unsure of what to say, and Elliott keeps patting him on the shoulders and whispering, “It’ll be okay,” every time he passes him. Sue cannot meet his eye, and Will keeps giving him these pitying looks.

On the twelfth night since Sue was called, Blaine is surprised to see Emma approaching him. She sits beside him on the couch and awkwardly clears her throat. Blaine sets his book aside, the same book he has been pretending to read for almost two weeks, and turns to give her his full attention.

“It’s hard,” she whispers. Her eyes, wide and doe-like, meet his. “I know it’s hard. I… Maybe it’s hard for you for different reasons but… I understand.” She clears her throat again. “We… we all do. Even Sebastian.”

Blaine nods. “Thank you,” he says, though he isn’t entirely sure what he is thanking her for.

She fiddles with the sleeve of her dress. “It gets easier,” she says. “It does. I… I promise. It gets easier.”

Blaine smiles, and this time he genuinely says, “Thank you, Emma.”

“Yes, well,” she clears her throat once more. “We’ve all been in your shoes, in some manner. We concubines have to… we look out for each other. Right?”

Blaine thinks of Will, assuring Emma that if she is called on he will go in her place. He gently places a hand on top of hers, though he pulls it away when she jumps in surprise.

“Right,” he says, pulling his hand back, but still giving her as sincere a smile as he can manage.

“Right,” she whispers, then stands and wipes at her dress. “Well, um. If you ever wish to talk…”

Blaine thinks she’s just being nice, and honestly cannot imagine ever confiding in Emma the way he sometimes thinks of confiding in Brittany, but he still says, “Thank you. If you ever need to talk as well, I will be here.”

She nods, and the look on her face tells Blaine that she wants to confide in him just as much as he wants to confide in her. Still, he appreciates her gesture and the thought that went into her approaching him, so he smiles again and watches her scurry back to her own chambers with a new fondness for the woman.

He picks his book back up and once again attempts to read it. It isn’t long before his eyes are back on the doors, still shut, still Mason-less.

He turns his eyes back to the book. He manages to read three words before the sound of the large doors opening greets him, and Blaine’s heart jumps in his chest as he looks up, hoping beyond hope to find Mason entering.

Mason is nowhere in sight. Instead, walking in with an over-exaggerated limp, hair tussled, lips bee-stung, and shirt opened almost down to his navel revealing miles of love bitten skin, is Sebastian.

He saunters up to Blaine, the limp in his step only seeming to make him prouder. When he reaches Blaine, he leans down and rests his arms on the armrest, eye-to-eye with Blaine, biting down on his swollen lips.

They stare at each other for several minutes, Blaine trying not to show how deeply devastated he is by the sight of the other man. Sebastian’s smirk grows by the minute, cheeks flushing red in excitement.

Finally, he leans slightly closer to Blaine and whispers, “Your time is up.”

He stands then, wiggles his fingers in a cruel goodbye, and limps his way to his own quarters, leaving Blaine alone on the couch, feeling like his entire world has once again been ripped out from under his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/145369715770/one-of-five-313)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody :) I hope you all had a fantastic weekend! I hope you all enjoy this rather mild chapter (this time including some Klaine interaction hehe). As always, please keep [the warnings for this fic](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost) in mind, although as I said, this chapter is very mild. Happy Monday!!

The next day, Blaine spends as little time in the concubine quarters as he can. He eats breakfast and lunch with Rachel in the kitchens, managing to avoid all talk of his possible (or, as is far more likely, impossible) future Kingship. He steers all manner of conversation toward her, and thankfully she eats it up, happy to go on and on about her own life.

The rest of his time he spends wandering the gardens. He catches Mercedes for about an hour, but she soon tells him that there is a new gardener today that she has to train and that unfortunately Blaine would be too much of a distraction. Blaine, of course, understands, and leaves her to her duties.

He walks all the way to the stables, then decides that perhaps he does not want to ride after all. This is when he returns to the castle for lunch with Rachel, which he spends mostly considering if maybe he _should_ go riding.

When they’re finished eating, Rachel thanks him once again for his company and Shelby swats him upside the head and tells him to stop distracting her best cook. Blaine scurries out after that, waving goodbye to a chuckling Rachel.

He returns to the gardens and once again wanders. He thinks he sees Mercedes with the new gardener, though he only sees them from the back so he cannot be sure. The man certainly looks the part of a gardener, Blaine thinks. Tall and broad of shoulders, he looks like somebody who could carry an entire tree across the garden with little help.

Blaine considers going over, just to say hi, but decides he better not. Instead he continues wandering the path, stopping at sitting areas every now and then, watching the water gurgle in their fountains or closing his eyes and inhaling the sweet aroma of whatever flower dominates that particular area.

He soon finds himself heading back to the stables. As he gets closer, he decides that maybe he will just visit Daisy. He isn’t wearing his riding clothes, after all, and by the time he changes and returns it will be too late to go riding anyhow.

Just as he’s about to enter the stables he notices a couple of horses and their riders trotting near the stables, clearly winding down after a good ride. He recognizes Daisy immediately, and feels disappointment fill him. No doubt her rider will want to pet her and brush her after their ride.

His eyes go to the rider, wondering if he knows who it is, and he takes an unconscious step back when he recognizes the Prince.

Blaine curses under his breath. Does this man not have political responsibilities? How is it that almost every time Blaine comes to the stables it is to find the Prince either preparing for a ride or returning from one?

He turns to leave, a conversation with the Prince the absolute last thing he needs, but is stopped by powerful, “Blaine!”

His shoulders hunch, as though that will help him hide. He hears hooves trotting nearer and he turns slowly to see the Prince steering Daisy in his direction.

“Your Highness,” Blaine says, bowing low to the ground.

“Your Majesty,” the Prince returns the bow as well as he can atop a horse.

Blaine looks around them to see if anybody heard, neck moving so quickly he worries he will give himself whiplash. Thankfully the only people nearby are the Prince’s companions, and they are still trotting in circles several feet away.

“Please, Your Highness,” Blaine says, bowing once more. “I humbly ask you not to call me that. Especially not when there are others around.”

“But I may call you that when we are alone?” the Prince asks, and Blaine stays bowed, feeling his cheeks heat up. His mind can’t help but go directly to his many fantasies of this very man, the most recent of which involved only he and Blaine and ended with Blaine practically chanting his name like a prayer. He blushes further.

“If you wish,” is how Blaine replies, trying to rid his mind of the thoughts. Unfortunately, it seems that his ability to do so seems to be dwindling by the day.

“I haven’t seen you lately,” the Prince says, and Blaine hears a small _thud_ , the sound of the Prince’s feet hitting the ground. Blaine sees the Prince’s boots from where he is still bowed, most likely looking like a complete fool. They are as filthy as they always seem to be when the Prince rides. Blaine wonders what the man must do for them to get to that state.

“I’ve been engrossed in a fantastic novel,” Blaine says quietly.

Fingers touch his chin and lift his head gently. “Please, stand,” the Prince says quietly. “I worry for the state of your back.”

Blaine stands quickly, wanting the Prince’s fingers off his chin as soon as possible. They remind him too much of the King, of how many times _he_ has lifted Blaine’s face in that exact same manner. Of course, the King’s fingers are thicker and rougher, unlike the Prince’s soft, slender ones.

He feels his cheeks redden once more.

The Prince is smiling at him, as though expecting Blaine to speak, but Blaine is not sure what to say. His mind is a mess, and the proximity of this man is not helping in the slightest.

“Are you all right?” the Prince finally asks after a too long silence.

Blaine scuffs his sandals on the path. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Were you planning on riding?” the Prince asks, and Blaine sees that he has his hand wrapped around Daisy’s rein. Blaine shakes his head immediately.

“I was merely coming to see the horses,” he says, glancing at Daisy, who is shifting on her feet. “I considered going for a ride but it is…” he glances at the sky, the sun still high, sky clear. “It is getting late,” he finishes lamely.

“Nonsense,” the Prince says. “The day is still young. Why, lunch has barely passed. Plenty of time for an afternoon ride.”

“By the time I change into my riding clothes it will not be. Besides, I doubt Daisy is up for another ride today,” Blaine reaches out and strokes the horse’s nose, rubbing it up and down and making her eyes close in content.

“I see,” the Prince says. “She is your favourite as well?”

Blaine looks away from the dark brown horse and smiles softly. “Is she not everybody’s?”

The Prince chuckles at that and pats her side. “How true. She truly is spoiled rotten.”

“As she should be,” Blaine says, giving her nose a final pat. “I, um. I should be off.”

“Big plans?” the Prince asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Not big, per se,” Blaine mumbles. “My, uh. My novel.”

The Prince’s lip turns up into a teasing smirk. “It must be one hell of a novel.”

“It is,” Blaine says, nodding earnestly. He cannot even remember the name of it at this time.

“Well, I will not keep you,” the Prince says. “I hope to see you around here soon, Blaine.”

“And I you, Your Highness,” Blaine says, heart beating at what is both a lie and the deepest truth.

The Prince nods, his bottom lip trapped under his teeth as though he is considering saying more. Instead he bows his head, and Blaine bows as well. They look up at the same time, eyes meeting briefly, and then Blaine spins on his heel and begins his walk back to the castle. He tries to walk at a casual pace, but is not quite sure he succeeds.

When he is far enough away he turns, hoping he will not be caught, and sees the Prince still standing in the same spot, lips moving with words Blaine cannot hear. He must be speaking to Daisy, or perhaps to himself. He sees the Prince sigh, and then his head turns in the direction Blaine left.

Once again their eyes meet, and Blaine quickly turns and walks faster toward the castle, no longer worried about propriety.

If the quick beating of his heart is any indication, he is in big, big trouble.

**

He doesn’t eat dinner with the rest of them, but neither does he go straight to sleep. Instead he picks up the novel he’s been pretending to read for two weeks and takes it with him to his room, where he props himself up in bed and actually reads it.

He gets halfway through before his stomach begins to rumble, but he refuses to join the others for dinner. Not after his interaction with Sebastian the previous day. He won’t give Sebastian another opportunity to gloat. He absolutely refuses.

Instead he continues reading his novel, managing to cover three quarters of it before his eyelids begin to droop and he decides that he has waited long enough to go to sleep.

He changes, then goes to the water closet to perform his night time ritual.

When he’s finished, he opens the water closet door to find Elliott standing a few feet away, by the door to Blaine’s room. He is holding a plate full of food.

Blaine clears his throat as he approaches, and Elliott turns, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Hey,” he greets, holding the food out. “You missed dinner.”

Blaine takes the food and opens the door to his room. He walks through, leaving it open in invitation. Elliott follows him inside.

Placing the food on his small table, Blaine turns to see Elliott closing the door. “Thank you for the food,” Blaine says. There is a quiet _click_ as the door fully shuts, and Elliott looks up at him, too much sympathy in his eyes.

“I can’t even imagine how this must feel,” Elliott says. He leans against the door, hands behind his back.

“How what must feel?” Blaine asks, sitting down by the table and turning his chair outward so that he is facing Elliott.

“ _This_ ,” Elliott gestures vaguely. “First Sue, then Sebastian. It must hurt.”

Blaine shrugs, as though even the mere words don’t pierce him to his very core. “It’s not like I didn’t expect it.” It’s a lie, of course. This turn of events has completely blindsided him.

“Still,” Elliott says. “Brittany admitted to me a while back how much she hurt when Kurt took me on as a concubine,” he walks toward Blaine and carefully sits in the chair across from him. “It had only been her for so long.”

Blaine takes a small bite of one of the sandwiches on his plate. Roast beef, he thinks. Most likely left over from the King’s lunch. “How long have you been the Prince’s concubine?” Blaine asks, unsure if he wants to know the answer.

Elliott smiles. “Three years,” he says. “It was quite unorthodox when the Prince asked me,” his smile turns fond, nostalgic. “I am two years older than him, you see. That is… incredibly rare, for a concubine. Most are the same age, or younger.”

Three years. The Prince would have been nineteen when he took Elliott. Brittany was his first concubine, at fourteen, which means that she was his only concubine for five years. Blaine can only imagine the pain she must have felt when the Prince brought Elliott to the castle.

Blaine takes another bite of his sandwich, thinking. He looks up at Elliott as he swallows.

“How would you have felt if I had been the Prince’s concubine rather than the King’s?”

“What?” Elliott asks, almost incredulous.

Blaine shakes his head. “Never mind. It was a stupid question.”

“No, of course it wasn’t. A little unprecedented, yes, but not stupid.” Elliott looks Blaine over as he thinks of what to say.

Blaine finishes his sandwich as Elliott thinks, and begins to pick at the vegetables on the plate.

“I think I would have been jealous,” Elliott finally says. “You’re… you’re young. You’re obviously gorgeous. And turning two into three is a bit more of a jump than turning four into five. So… yeah. Definitely would have been jealous.”

Blaine feels a strange sort of pride at Elliott’s answer. “You wouldn’t have been like Sebastian though, would you?”

Elliott shakes his head before Blaine even finishes his question. “Absolutely not,” he says emphatically. “Sebastian…” he trails off, eyes going to Blaine’s door, as if worried Sebastian is about to barge in on them. “Sebastian did not deal with you becoming a concubine too well.”

“No kidding,” Blaine murmurs, popping a cooked carrot into his mouth.

“He was spoiled, really,” Elliott says. “Obviously the King’s favourite. The King called on the other concubines occasionally, but it was obvious he liked Sebastian best. There were…” Elliott glances at the door again, and even though they are alone still lowers his voice. “There were rumours that the King meant to ask him to be his consort.”

Blaine’s lips part and his throat dries. “Sebastian wants to be King,” he whispers, remembering Sebastian’s outburst after Sue was summoned.

Elliott nods. “Very badly,” he says. “It… It clouds his judgement. He believes it is his right, after being the King’s favourite for so long.”

Blaine looks down at his food, and his thoughts come out of his mouth before he can stop them. “If the King makes Sebastian consort what do you think he would do to me?”

His hands are covered in warmth and he looks up to see Elliott giving him a very serious look, his hands squeezing Blaine’s tightly.

“Nothing,” Elliott says, very surely. “Spouses have no say over concubines. The only concubines Sebastian would have control over would be his own.”

“He could convince the King…”

“Sebastian will not be King,” Elliott says. “Maybe before there was a chance, but the King has not wanted a consort since Queen Elizabeth passed. And now that you’re here…” Elliott shrugs. “Well, let’s just say if the King does decide to take a consort it won’t be Sebastian.”

Blaine shakes his head. “The King does not desire me anymore,” he whispers.

“Of course he does,” Elliott replies immediately. “What makes you say that?”

“First Sue,” Blaine says, still quietly. “Now Sebastian. Next it will be Will, I’m sure, then Emma. Then he might take pity and call for me again.”

He feels his eyes filling with tears. He’s done. Sebastian was right. His time is over, and he hasn’t even been here for six months. That’s how little time it took for the King to grow bored of him.

What will he do for the rest of his life? Read the entirety of the castle’s library? Bother Rachel and Mercedes? Ride around the large plains and forest behind the gardens until he tires of riding? Fantasize about what his life would have been should the Prince have wanted him while simultaneously wishing with his every being to be called on by the King just once more?

“Blaine,” Elliott squeezes his hands again, drawing him out of his thoughts. “That will not happen. Not to you. I promise you that.”

Blaine blinks back his tears and swallows thickly. He looks up at Elliott, who looks just as serious as before. He clearly deeply believes what he’s saying.

“Would you be saying these things to me if I had been the Prince’s concubine rather than the King’s?” he asks, voice hoarse.

Elliott looks down at their hands. “I do not know,” he says. “I… I would hope I would. Brittany said similar things to me when the Prince stopped asking for me as regularly.”

“I’m glad you had her,” Blaine replies, forcing a smile. “And… thank you. For being so kind to me. The others, Will, Sue, Emma… they mean well, but they don’t really seem to care much about me. Not like you and Brittany do. I…” he has to blink back more tears. “I really appreciate your friendship.”

“And I yours,” Elliott says, squeezing Blaine’s hands one last time before letting go.

He stands and begins to walk toward the door, the conversation clearly over. Blaine wipes at the few stray tears that have escaped his eyes and takes in a deep breath to try and collect himself.

He hears the door open, and then Elliott says, “Oh, and Blaine?”

Blaine turns his body to face Elliott.

“Don’t let Sebastian get in your head,” he says. “Eat dinner with us tomorrow. We… we missed you tonight.”

Blaine nods, though he is not sure he will be able to keep the promise. Elliott gives him one last smile before he slips out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Blaine finishes his supper in between loud sniffles and silent tears. He feels as though every emotion he has bottled up since he arrived is threatening to spill loose. His guilt over his fantasies of the Prince. His deep hurt at the King choosing Sue and Sebastian over him. His melancholia over leaving home. Yet more guilt, not only for sleeping with David but for missing him so desperately.

He wipes at his eyes and takes a deep breath, steeling himself. He needs to get it together. He can’t do this. He cannot be weak. He _refuses_ to be weak.

After a quick trip to the water closet to clean his face, Blaine curls up into his bed and shuts his eyes, willing sleep to take him as soon as possible. He leaves his curtains drawn, wanting to awaken with the sun.

He will not let Sebastian get him down. This is the last time he allows his emotions to get so out of hand. If his time with the King is done, then it is done. This is the life of a concubine, the life that was thrust upon him. He will accept his fate with the dignity and grace that is expected of him. And he will be damned if he allows Sebastian to get the best of him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/145518124620/one-of-five-413)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday everybody! Have some klaine ;) as always, please keep [the warnings for this fic ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost) in mind, although once again, this chapter is quite mild :)

The sun wakes him, as he hoped, and Blaine jumps out of bed prepared to face the day.

He washes himself more thoroughly than he ever has, shaves carefully (something he has been neglecting over the past two weeks) and dresses in his nicest clothes. He looks at himself in the mirror and smiles.

This is a man who is not going to let the likes of Sebastian ruin his day.

Only Sue is awake when he goes out, but breakfast is already spread over the table. He picks up the ripest fruits and stacks them on his plate, then pours himself a glass of orange juice.

“Blaine,” Sue says, sounding - dare he say it? - cautious. He turns to her and smiles.

“Good morning, Sue,” he says, surprised to find the chipper tone comes on its own.

“You look well,” she says slowly. “Are you… alright? You weren’t at dinner last night.”

“I’m perfectly splendid,” he says, popping a grape into his mouth. He moans as the juices splash over his tongue and the insides of his cheeks. “You must try some of these grapes, Sue. They are divine.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I will,” she says. She glances behind her, then says, “Look, Blaine, about what’s been happening -”

Blaine puts a hand up to stop her. “Whatever you are going to say is unnecessary,” he says. “I know I’ve been acting… well, strange, to say the least, but that’s all behind me. I needed some time to adjust, and now I have. But thank you, for your concern.”

Sue nods. She walks over to the table and picks up a bushel of grapes. Blaine grins and sits down, pushing out the chair across from him with his feet and gesturing for her to join him.

She does, and for the first time since his arrival, Blaine has a one-on-one conversation with Sue without feeling utterly intimidated.

**

He finds Mercedes in the gardens, but she admits she is still training the new gardener, and so he lets her be. Instead he heads over to the kitchens, though this time he does not take the slave corridors. He walks through the castle hallways, shoulders squared and proud.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping the King would see him. He feels better than he has in weeks, and he knows he looks wonderful. He catches a female guard looking him over with delight, and shivers run up his spine with pride.

The King does not cross his path, but that does not matter. He spends most of his day in the kitchen, mainly distracting Rachel from her work as Shelby refuses to let him help cook in his beautiful clothes.

At lunch Rachel whispers, “Finn told me that he overheard the King speaking to his council members about whether or not he should take a consort. It’s really happening, Blaine! A friend of mine is going to be King!”

For the first time that day his stomach twists uncomfortably, but he just laughs it off, telling Rachel to please stop being absurd. He steers the conversation to the direction of Mercedes and her new gardener, which makes Rachel blush.

“I saw him yesterday, when he arrived,” she says. “He was… pleasant to look at.”

“Was he?” Blaine teases.

“Yes,” she sighs dreamily. “He has these eyes… sharp blue, like steel. I’ve never seen more lovely blue eyes in my life.”

Blaine is quite sure _he_ has, the Prince’s eyes flashing through his mind. He shakes his head to clear the thought, though passes it off as fond amusement.

“Finn has brown eyes,” he reminds her.

She smacks his shoulder and says, “Oh, hush you.”

After lunch Shelby tells him that he must leave, otherwise Rachel will get no work done. Blaine says goodbye happily, stealing a cookie on his way out and avoiding being smacked with Shelby’s wooden spoon on the bottom with a happy laugh.

He spends the rest of the day curled up on the couch finishing his novel and chatting happily with Brittany.

At one point Sebastian walks out of his chamber and spots him with a smirk.

“Blaine,” he greets, sitting on the armrest of the couch Blaine is sitting on. “Feeling better?”

He is wearing a loose and billowy shirt, open wide to reveal the love bites Blaine saw the previous night. Blaine stares at them for a moment, then focuses on Sebastian’s face with as genuine a smile as he can manage.

“I am, thank you for asking,” he says. “Do you want to join us? Brittany and I were considering starting a friendly game of poker. No bets, of course, just for fun.”

Sebastian glances over them, his smirk diminishing by the second. “No thanks,” he says, now scowling. “I don’t believe in poker just for fun.”

Blaine shrugs. “Suit yourself. Brittany, do you have a deck?”

Sebastian leaves soon after, and Blaine watches him go with a satisfied smile.

**

Blaine rises early again the next day, washing himself just as thoroughly as the day before and shaving just as carefully. This time though, instead of donning some of his nicest clothing, Blaine pulls on his riding clothes.

He walks to the stables with a spring in his step, only briefly pausing to wave hello to Mercedes, who is once again with the new gardener. The man looks like he’s going to turn to look at Blaine, but Blaine is already continuing on his way.

When he reaches the stables he says a happy “Good morning!” to every stable worker that crosses his path. They all wave back, some hesitantly, and a few turn to their co-workers and whisper something Blaine doesn’t hear, but he doesn’t mind. He’s in a good mood for the second day in a row and he is not afraid to show it.

Daisy is still in her box stall, which only makes Blaine happier. He pets her to say hello, and then announces to the stable boy he knows is in charge of her that he’s taking her out for a ride.

“You beat me to it!”

Blaine turns, Daisy’s reins tight in his hands, already leading her out toward the wide back exit. The Prince stands before him, arms crossed over his chest.

Blaine tightens his hold on Daisy’s reins. “Your Highness,” he bows in greeting.

“Blaine,” the Prince returns with a small bow of his own. “I see you’re taking Daisy out for a ride. A pity, I was hoping to ride her myself.”

Blaine purses his lips. “You can, if you would like,” he holds her reins out, though he does not want to give her up. He’s ridden on horses other than Daisy, of course, but there is something about her in particular that makes riding even more special than usual.

“No, you were here first. Fair is fair,” the Prince smiles. “I’ll have to make do with Poppy,” he smiles at the white horse in the stall next to Daisy’s. “She’s severely underappreciated, don’t you think?”

Blaine can’t help but chuckle, and the Prince smiles. Blaine obviously gave him the reaction he was looking for.

“Are you riding for a particular reason?” the Prince asks. “Or just to ride?”

“Just to ride,” Blaine says. “Yourself?”

“Just to ride as well,” he pats Poppy on the nose. “Some days it’s just good to feel the wind through your hair, you know?”

“I do,” Blaine says with a happy nod.

The Prince stares at Blaine for a few seconds, and Blaine shits on his feet. “Would you care for some company on your ride?”

Blaine’s eyes widen. “I - You wish to ride with me, Your Highness?”

“If you’ll have me,” the Prince shrugs, but his eyes sparkle. Blaine feels his heart race in his chest.

He should say no. Things have been going well for him, at least these past two days. There is no need to drag himself back into a state of guilt and anxiety by allowing himself the opportunity to better get to know the Prince.

His heart screams yes, though. And, really, he owes it to his ten year old self. One ride with the Prince. How much harm could it cause?

“I would love that,” he says, a happy smile spreading across his face. A similar smile lights up the Prince, who nods and opens Poppy’s box stall.

“Give me only a moment.”

Blaine waits patiently while the Prince prepares Poppy to ride, petting Daisy often to try and distract himself, but unable to keep his eyes off the other man for long. At one point he looks over just as the Prince is leaning down to pick up the saddle, and Blaine’s eyes are drawn to the perfect curve of his backside, accentuated so nicely in his riding pants. He looks away quickly, red filling his cheeks, but glances back just as quickly, thankful to see the Prince already standing.

“Do you need help, Your Highness?” Blaine asks, surprised that none of the stable workers have offered. Every time Blaine and Lady Hudson come to ride they practically trip over themselves in attempts to help her ready her horse.

The Prince shakes his head and directs a dazzling smile his way. “I prefer doing this myself, actually,” he says, shrugging. “But thank you for the offer.”

Blaine nods and finishes the wait in silence, watching the Prince out of the corner of his eye despite his brain constantly screaming at him to stop. He tells his brain to calm down. The Prince mentioned that he would like to be Blaine’s friend, and really, Blaine is going to be in this castle for the rest of his life. If the King is already finished with him, preparing to only call on him once in a blue moon, Blaine will have to find yet more things to fill his time. He knows he and the Prince are of entirely different statuses, but if it’s the Prince who is insisting…

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” the Prince announces, already atop Poppy. Blaine hurries to mount Daisy as well.

“Lead the way,” Blaine says, gesturing to the exit with his hand. The Prince chuckles and shakes his head, but does as Blaine says. Blaine follows him closely behind, trying to focus his eyes on the space ahead of the Prince rather than on his wonderful shoulders and far too shapely backside.

**

The entirety of the ride feels like some strange fantasy from his younger days.

It’s still relatively warm out, although Blaine can tell it’s getting cooler, and the soft breeze keeps blowing his curls in front of his face and blocking his view of where he is going. It’s a nuisance, but the breeze also brings him the wonderful scent of vanilla and lilac, which Blaine can only assume comes from the Prince. His inner eleven year old squeals at the knowledge that he is close enough to the Prince to know what he smells like.

The breeze also affords him a most beautiful view: that of the Prince turning to point out a rabbit to him, hair disheveled and blowing slightly to the left, cheeks red and lips wide in excitement. Blaine has always known the Prince is attractive, there’s never been a doubt about that, but that sight of the Prince smiling like that, looking directly at him, hair blowing in the wind…

He will never forget it. And that is a very dangerous thing.

They ride for hours, barely speaking, simply enjoying each other’s company. Once Blaine is able to focus on things other than the Prince’s otherworldly external beauty and stops freaking out over the fact that he is on a ride with his long-time crush, he finds himself quite at ease with the Prince. More at ease than he has been with anybody else in the castle.

When they begin their return to the castle, the Prince turns to him and says, “You are an excellent rider, you know. I would never think you’d only learned to ride a few months ago.”

Blaine’s heart skips a beat, at the words and at the deep blue eyes staring at him. He ducks his head, a pleased smile splitting his face. “You flatter me, Your Highness.”

“I only speak the truth,” the Prince replies, and Blaine looks up to see him still staring, eyes taking on a green-ish quality as the sun hits them. Blaine bites on his bottom lip, thinking of how unfair it is that the Prince now has the most beautiful blue eyes _and_ the most beautiful green eyes he has ever seen.

“In that case, thank you.”

They reach the stables and the Prince dismounts Poppy in one swift move. Blaine struggles a little more, awkwardly moving one leg over the other and landing on the ground with a sharp exhale of breath.

He looks up to see the Prince smirking at him. “I guess in some ways it is still clear you are a novice.”

Blaine flushes but can't help but smile despite his embarrassment. He looks to the ground, the Prince’s gaze too much for him to stand, and his eyes land on the Prince’s boots.

His entirely pristine boots.

He frowns. He and the Prince have been on a ride for hours, and every time Blaine sees the Prince return from such a ride his boots are caked in mud. What is it about this ride that has been different?

“You seem confused,” the Prince says, and Blaine looks up to see him with a confused look on his face as well. “Is something the matter?”

Blaine shrugs and gestures vaguely. “I just, um. Your boots.” He winces. Could he possibly be more awkward?

The Prince raises an eyebrow. “What about my boots?”

Blaine shakes his head and begins to lead Daisy to the stables. “Nothing.”

A hand comes to his shoulder, fingers curling over it and Blaine freezes on the spot, his heart fluttering wildly.

“Blaine,” the Prince says, quiet but firm. Blaine turns his head to see the Prince staring at him with such sharp intensity it takes his breath away.

“Your Highness?” Blaine asks, voice embarrassingly breathy.

“Whatever you were going to say about my boots… You don't have to tell me. But I wouldn't think it trivial, if that is what worries you.”

Blaine shakes his head slowly. “It's… it's more embarrassing, really. Than trivial.”

“I doubt it,” the Prince says, hand falling from Blaine's shoulder. Blaine turns fully to look at him, gripping Daisy’s rein tightly, like a lifeline.

“I just,” Blaine's words get caught in his throat and he had to cough into his elbow in an attempt to get them out. “I noticed in the past that when you return from your rides your boots are dirty.” He blushes as he gestures to them. “They’re perfectly clean this time, though. I was just… I was wondering why that is.”

“Oh,” the Prince’s serious look becomes playful. “Well, I didn’t train today.”

Blaine frowns. “Train?”

“Yes. There’s a plain not far from here, quite isolated. Sir Evans and Lady Fabray have been training me in the arts of combat,” they continue walking, this time with the Prince taking the lead. “I realized several years back that my education had focused far too much on the diplomatic aspects of being a King,” he shrugs, though Blaine can see that he’s cheeks have begun to tint red. “Originally I had hoped Lady Hudson would train me, but she’s a very busy woman. You should consider yourself lucky to be taught to ride by her.”

Blaine can’t help a gasp. Lady Hudson rejected training the Prince but decided to teach _him_ to ride? He already knew that he was blessed to be taught by such a woman, but now…

“I can see the cogs turning in your brain,” the Prince teases, and Blaine ducks his head. Is he really that obvious? “I never asked Lady Hudson to train me. My father talked me out of it. He recommended Lady Fabray and Sir Evans. While I would have loved for Lady Hudson to train me, Lady Fabray and Sir Evans are beyond adequate teachers. I am happy that my father insisted on them.”

“Why would the King not want Lady Hudson to train you?” Blaine can’t help but ask. It seems only a few hours with the Prince has entirely disabled his filter.

“He knows her well. They have been close friends for many, many years. He knew how busy she would be, and he knew that she would not have wanted to say no.” The Prince purses his lips, then says, “He also realized it would be rather insensitive of me to ask, something that I myself had not considered.”

They reach the stable and Blaine stops, causing the Prince to stop as well. He turns to Blaine and raises an eyebrow in question.

“Insensitive?”

The Prince nods. “You know. Because of my mother.”

Blaine does not know. In fact, he has absolutely no idea what it is that the Prince is speaking of. Still he nods, eyes closed and lips pursed, as if to say “Ah, of course. Because of your mother.”

“Besides,” the Prince continues, starting to walk again. Blaine hurries to follow. “Her son is one of my pages. My father thought it might be too much of a conflict of interest.”

“Wait,” Blaine stopped again, and this time when the Prince turned to look at him he looked amused. “The son of a _knight_ is your _page_?”

The Prince chuckles, as though he finds the question amusing. “Well, she wasn’t always a knight.”

Wasn’t she? Lady Hudson is somebody who commands such respect, who is so strong and powerful, that Blaine cannot for a moment imagine her being anything other than a knight.

“Right,” he says eventually. “Of course. My apologies.”

The Prince chuckles once more. “Stop apologizing for everything. It implies there is something to apologize for.”

Blaine has to press his lips tightly together to stop himself from apologizing for apologizing too much. The Prince notices and this time his chuckle is closer to a full-out laugh.

“Has anybody ever told you that you’re adorable?”

Blaine wants to melt into a puddle right then and there. He cannot believe that he just spent the entire morning in the company of the _Prince_ and that the _Prince_ just told him that he is adorable. When he was a baker boy in Westerville never could he have dreamed that this day would actually come.

He feels his heart lurch and he frowns. Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? He isn’t just a baker boy in Westerville any more. This would never happen to that boy. Now he’s the King’s concubine. He has his room cleaned for him every day. He has meals brought to him. He has been taught to ride by the King’s best knight. Being friends with the Prince? That’s just another day in the life of the King’s concubine.

He glances up at the Prince, who is still smiling teasingly at him, and whispers, almost ashamed, “Yes, actually. Your father.”

The Prince’s smile drops immediately. His entire body seems to become more rigid, taller, more regal.

“Right,” he says, voice tense, jaw clenched. “Well, he is correct.”

Blaine nods, despising the tension that has come between them. Things had been so easy, moments before, why did he have to go and ruin it?

 _Because things shouldn’t be easy. You’re the King’s concubine, not the Prince’s betrothed. Stop acting like a smitten little boy_.

“I, um,” he clears his throat. “I enjoyed our ride today. I think it would be nice if we would become friends, like you suggested.”

The Prince stares at him, as though trying to read his mind. Finally he nods. Though his face remains impassive, his posture seems to relax. “Yes, friends. I would very much like that.”

They’ve reached Daisy and Poppy’s box stalls by now, and the Prince glances around them, then whispers, “I really don’t have many friends my age. I… I know it might seem strange, given your relationship with my father, but...  Well, Brittany and Elliott are the only other people I would call friends around my age and they don’t really count.”

Blaine shakes his head instantly. “Of course they count.”

The Prince shakes his head as well. “That’s kind of you to say,” it isn’t an agreement, and Blaine thinks that may be intentional. “You’ll come riding with me again sometime?”

“I would greatly enjoy that,” Blaine says, nodding firmly. The Prince nods as well, and finally that beautiful smile of his returns.

“Wonderful. Thank you, Blaine.”

He pats Blaine on the shoulder again, a friendly pat, such as friends share. Blaine watches as the Prince leads Poppy into her stall, attempting to swallow the giant lump that has formed in his throat.

He already knows this is a mistake. For god’s sake, he cannot stop himself from calling the Prince’s smile _beautiful_. Absolutely nothing good can come of this.

And yet, as the Prince turns to look at him, chuckling and gesturing that he should move Daisy into her own stall, Blaine knows that there is absolutely nothing that could make him go back on his word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/145724788645/one-of-five-513)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! Sorry this chapter is coming so late in the day! I hope you will enjoy it regardless :) as always, please keep [the warnings for this fic](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost) in mind, although once again this is a pretty tame chapter.

Sebastian is called upon by the King again within the week. When he returns the next morning, new love bites blooming over old ones, a smirk on his face aimed only at Blaine, it takes all that Blaine has not to run from the room.

He doesn’t, though. Because he has promised himself that he will not run from Sebastian. He will not allow Sebastian to put him down. He’s going to be stuck with Sebastian for the rest of his life according to Elliott, whether Sebastian becomes King or they both remain concubines for the rest of their lives.

Instead he just nods at Sebastian in acknowledgement and goes back to eating his apple and reading his book.

The problem is that Sebastian doesn't disappear as he usually does. Instead he flops onto the couch with a heavy sigh and smiles directly at Blaine.

He smells like the King.

“Hello, Sebastian,” Blaine says, keeping his eyes on his book. When he'd come out this morning he'd been quite excited to be the only one in the common room, looking forward to some alone time. Now he wishes Sue, Brittany, Elliott, or even Will were around to mediate. He's been strong so far, but he doesn't know how well he’ll fare against Sebastian alone.

“Why, hello Blaine!” he says, voice cheery. “Boy, I just had the most wonderful night.”

“Did you?” Blaine tries to keep his voice emotionless. Better to show nothing than to show too much. Sebastian has already seen him weaker than he wishes he had.

“Oh, yeah,” he turns his whole body so he's facing Blaine, and Blaine chances a glance at him. Sebastian is smiling like the cat that got the cream. “Had the most succulent roast for dinner, absolutely to die for. We talked for what felt like hours,” he sighs happily and leans his head against the back of the couch. “And then he fucked me until I couldn't feel my legs. It was just like old times.”

 _Like old times._ Blaine brought his eyes back to his book. Before he'd shown up, is what Sebastian meant.

“I'm happy for you,” Blaine says.

“Are you? Because you haven't turned a page since I got here.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I've been paying attention to you. It's called being polite.”

Sebastian coos. “Are you sure it's not called being jealous?”

Blaine doesn't respond.

Sebastian leans closer and says, “You know, I heard a rumour the King is thinking of taking a consort.”

Blaine's head shoots up at that. “Where did you hear that?” he asks, voice sharp. He didn't think Rachel or Finn would have spoken to Sebastian, especially not about that.

“You know, around,” he waves his hand around. “It's just, it's interesting, don't you think?”

Blaine knows what he's going to say, so he looks back to his book and shakes his head. “It's just a rumour.”

“A rumour that surfaces exactly when he stops calling on his favourite.”

Blaine snaps his book shut and turns to Sebastian sharply. “Why are you doing this?”

Sebastian smirks, obviously glad to have broken Blaine from his cool reverie. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you taunting me?” Blaine asks, throat dry, already dangerously close to tears.

Sebastian shrugs. “Because you piss me off,” he says, as if it’s that simple.

Blaine shuts his eyes, trying to keep his tears at bay. He is not going to let Sebastian see him cry. He is _not_.

“But _why_?” he asks, trying to keep his voice from wavering. “I never did anything to you. I never asked to be made a concubine. I never asked to-”

“Oh, please,” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You know, you may have everyone else fooled with this cute, shy, innocent country boy act, but I see right through you.” He leans in close and says, “I know it pisses you off that you’re not the only concubine being called on anymore, and I know you hate knowing that you’re no longer the King’s favourite.”

Blaine takes a deep, ragged, breath. “Look,” he says, voice cracking over the word. “I know that you were the favourite before I came along. I know that you see me as your competition. I know that you hate me. But I’m not after your crown, Sebastian.”

“Give me a break,” Sebastian stands up suddenly, shifting so that he’s standing directly in front of Blaine. “Do you think that matters? I couldn’t give two shits if you want to be King or not. I give two shits that you waltzed in here and instantly made everybody love you just because you have giant puppy dog eyes and you scream ‘protect me.’ And I give two shits that, regardless of if you want to be King or not, you spent months being more likely to be chosen as consort than me.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I can’t control any of that, Sebastian,” Blaine says. “I can’t… There’s nothing I can do about any of that. All that I’m hearing is that you hate me for reasons entirely out of either of our control’s. I’m not your enemy.”

“You might as well be,” Sebastian spits, eyes narrowing. “See, this is what I’m talking about. You’re so fucking self-righteous. You think you’re better than me because you don’t want to be King, as if that’s something you should be rewarded for. But I know there’s more to it than that. I know you’re not as perfect as everybody believes.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Blaine whispers, a tear finally escaping his eye. “But whatever it is, I can’t give it to you.”

Sebastian scoffs and shakes his head. “You’re right. And that’s what pisses me off the most.”

He glares at Blaine for a couple more seconds, then scoffs again and stalks over to his room. Blaine watches him go, wiping at the couple of stray tears rolling down his cheeks. He takes a deep, calming breath, picks up his book, and tries to pretend that everything is okay.

**

Despite his minor breakdown earlier, Blaine still refuses to let Sebastian ruin his day. He remains in the common room until he has finished half of his book, and then eats lunch with Elliott and Sue. Sebastian comes out of his room briefly to get food, but thankfully disappears soon after with only a sneer sent Blaine’s way. Elliott tells Blaine to ignore him, and Sue just rolls her eyes and mutters about how immature Sebastian is acting.

After lunch, Blaine goes out to the gardens for a walk. His lunch already worked to lift his mood, but nothing can really make him feel better than walking among this beauty.

He finds Mercedes tending to a rose bush off a secluded path, alone for the first time in a week. He approaches her, excited to spend time with his friend once more.

“Mercedes!” He greets her happily, waving as he grows nearer to her. She turns to look at him and smiles, waving back.

“Well aren’t you a sight for these sore eyes,” she says as he sits next to her, crossing his legs. She instantly tuts and smacks his leg. “Blaine, one of these days you’re going to give me a heart attack. What are you doing sitting on the ground in those nice pants?”

“I get tired standing,” he says, as he’s said many times over the past few months. “No trainee today?”

Mercedes shakes her head. “I sent him off with Mike. There’s only so much new blood I can take.”

“Too many annoying questions?” Blaine asks, smiling as she goes back to pruning the bush.

“Not as annoying as yours,” she teases him, and Blaine chuckles. “No, he’s a good gardener. He’s just… I don’t know. His attitude is a little too much for me. He’s too excited to be working here.”

Blaine leans back on his hands. “I would be excited to work here, too.”

“I know you would,” she says, shaking her head. “Two of you would get along like peas in a pod.”

“Maybe you should introduce me,” Blaine says, mostly teasing. He’s grown to love Mercedes and her endless patience, but he would really enjoy talking to a gardener who is as passionate about the castle gardens as he is.

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “You and Cooper would be too much for me. If I were to ever introduce you I’d have to get away as soon as possible before you draw me into a conversation on the different shades of red the roses take on depending on how the light hits them.”

Blaine’s heart skips a beat in his chest. “Cooper?”

“Yeah, the new guy. That boy, I tell you what…”

Blaine stares at the flowers, mind reeling at this new information. “Is, um.” He clears his throat. “Is Cooper a popular name here? In the capital?”

Mercedes glances at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

Blaine shrugs. “I just… I used to know somebody named Cooper, back in Westerville. He moved to the capital a long time ago.”

“I see. Well, Cooper isn’t exactly the most common of names, but it’s not one in a million either. I can ask him if he used to live in Westerville next time I work with him if you’d like?”

Blaine shakes his head. “No, don’t… Never mind. It probably isn’t him.” Cooper left Westerville to pursue a career in entertainment. His goal was to become the King’s jester, not the King’s gardener.

“Okay,” she says, turning back to her roses. “You sure are a strange one,” she says, shaking her head.

“Yeah,” Blaine whispers, eyes on the roses. “I sure am.”

**

He has trouble sleeping that night. He keeps thinking of the man he’d seen with Mercedes, tall and broad, with dark hair. He never saw his face, never even saw his profile. Just his back. A back that could belong to anybody.

He takes far too many trips to the water closet. After several hours of not being able to sleep he goes to the table in his room, takes some paper and a quill and begins to draft a letter to his parents, asking if they’d heard from Cooper recently. He’s barely dipped the quill in ink when he changes his mind. Writing to his parents will only open up an entirely new set of issues. He places the quill back in its place and goes back to bed.

It’s still at least an hour before he finally drifts off to sleep, mentally telling himself over again that there is absolutely no way that his brother is the castle’s newest gardener. No way.

**

The next morning Blaine wakes up to the sound of rain and thunder. He pulls the canopy across his bed shut and curls his blankets closer to himself, falling back to sleep almost instantly.

He spends the large majority of the day curled up in bed or in the common room, reading a book or chatting with Brittany or Elliott. Emma joins them for a short period of time, sitting on the floor in front of Brittany, allowing Brittany to braid her hair and then pull it loose, then re-braid it.

Sebastian appears at one point, but he does little more than sneer at them all before he disappears through the servant’s door. Blaine can’t help but wonder if he is going to meet the King, but he removes that thought from his mind.

**

The next day it rains as well, and Blaine sleeps in yet again. As he wakes, he thinks that even though not being called upon by the King has not exactly been a pleasant experience, at least he is not being awoken at dawn to service the King before he wakes.

He goes to the kitchens and helps make lunch for the concubines, chatting amiably with Rachel as he does. They deliver the food together, and then eat their own lunch together at a small table in the far corner of the kitchens.

“Do you know if Finn has contact with Sebastian?” Blaine asks, trying to sound as though the question is casual.

“Sebastian?” Rachel asks, frowning. “The concubine?” Blaine nods. “No, not that I know of. Finn doesn’t have much contact with people who don’t directly interact with the Prince.”

“I see,” Blaine says, lifting a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“Why do you ask?”

Blaine shrugs. “He just… mentioned hearing that the King was considering taking a consort. I wondered if he had heard it from Finn as you had, or whether he had heard it from somebody else. I suppose I now have my answer.”

Rachel squirms excitedly in her seat. “Blaine, this is fantastic,” she squeals. “This means that the King wasn’t just musing aloud when Finn heard him. If there’s rumours spreading then it must be true!”

“Perhaps,” Blaine says, eating another forkful of potatoes.

“This is so exciting,” Rachel exclaims. “Now we know for sure that you will be King!”

Blaine hushes her, glancing around the kitchen nervously. “We don’t know that for sure,” he whispers.

“But you’re -”

“His favourite, I know, that’s what you keep saying.” He looks down at his food. “To be honest I don’t think that I’m his favourite anymore.”

“Nonsense. The King probably just feels bad for all the other concubines. He will call on you again in no time.”

Blaine smiles at her. “Thank you,” he says, knowing she means well. He does not know if he wants to put his faith in the hope that the King might call upon him again soon, however. He’s been trying his hardest not to constantly be alert in case Mason or a guard comes to give him a message from the King.

After he finishes eating, he helps Rachel prepare dinner for the gardeners and the household servants, then helps her in delivering the food before returning to the concubine quarters for his own dinner.

Will and Sue dominate the conversation, with Emma and Brittany quietly whispering to each other next to Blaine. Sebastian is not present, which makes Blaine’s stomach clench uncomfortably, but he attempts to pay attention to what Will and Sue are discussing in order to distract himself.

That night he lies restless in bed. He feels wound up, as though the events of the past couple of days are only now catching up to him.

Over the past few months something that has helped him relax more than anything has been to give himself an orgasm. He settles himself further into the bed and slowly brings a hand down to cup himself.

As soon as he does he thinks of Sebastian’s words. How he does not buy that Blaine is as innocent as he seems. His mind flashes to his night with David, a night that he has played over and over again in his fantasies.

He thinks as well of the last orgasm he had, how he fucked his own fist while chanting the Prince’s name in his mind.

His hand falls onto the mattress as guilt overwhelms him.

Oh, how happy would it make Sebastian to know that Blaine has not only been touched by the King. That he gave himself to another man, even knowing his fate. How he fantasizes about the King’s son, night after night, convincing himself that it is okay because he thinks of the King too.

With a frustrated groan he rises from his bed and decides to head to the common room, hoping that reading one of the many history books will calm him enough to allow him sleep.

He finds Elliott in the room as well, reading a novel that Blaine finished about a month ago. He looks up when he sees Blaine and smiles. “Can’t sleep?”

Blaine shakes his head, heading to one of the shelves and pulling down the biggest book of history he can find. He sits on one of the comfy chairs, near to where Elliott is reading.

They sit in silence, each focused on their own reading. It’s comfortable, and Blaine is thankful for that.

Eventually, Elliott seems to grow tired of their silence, and says, “Are you doing okay?”

Blaine looks up from his book, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

Elliott sets his book down and moves down the couch so that he is closer to Blaine. “What we talked about the other night. About Sebastian, about the King. You’ve been quiet lately.”

Blaine sets his own book down as well. “I’d like to think that I am doing alright,” he says, giving Elliott a tight smile. “It’s been difficult. Sebastian…” his fingers go to a loose thread in his sleep shirt. “Sebastian has been difficult.”

“Has he been giving you trouble?”

Blaine shrugs. “He taunts me. The other day, after he returned from a night with the King he… we had an argument, I suppose you could say.” He bites the inside of his cheek, debating on if he should say more. Elliott is staring at him sympathetically, though, and it makes Blaine want to be honest. “He’s gotten in my head, I think. He told me that he ‘sees through me.’ That I’m putting on an act that has fooled everybody but not him. I suppose… I’m not sure. It’s been bothering me.”

“Sebastian,” Elliott shakes his head in disgust. “I cannot believe how childish he is being. When he first became a concubine nobody gave him the trouble he is giving you. Brittany never gave me any trouble at all. I know that he wants to be King, but…”

“I’m starting to think it’s about more than that,” Blaine whispers. “But I’m not really sure what else there could be.”

“Beyond Sebastian acting like an absolute child who is not getting his way?” Elliott rolls his eyes. “You would think he would be more kind, considering you are going through what he went through only months ago.”

“I think he wants me to hurt in the way that he hurt when I arrived,” Blaine admits. “In a strange way I can understand. I… I’ve taken my time with the King for granted. When he called upon Sue it completely shocked me. I cannot imagine how it would be if the King had brought in a new concubine instead of simply calling upon his other ones.” He wraps the loose thread around his finger. “He most likely does not see my pain as comparable to his, and is therefore trying to make it that way. In a strange way I cannot fault him.”

“You are too kind, Blaine. You have every right to be angry with him. You understand that, right?”

“I don’t know. The more I think on this issue, the more confused I become. It’s as though all of my emotions are battling each other for dominance, but none of them are winning.”

Elliott reaches forward and takes Blaine’s hand, causing him to look up into the eyes of his friend. Sympathetic eyes, which shine with compassion. Blaine does not know how he would have survived in this castle if it weren’t for Elliott.

“I understand,” Elliott says, squeezing his hand tightly. “I’m sorry that you are feeling this way. You know that if you ever wish to talk…”

Blaine nods and squeezes his hand back. “Thank you. And not just for this. For everything you’ve done for me. You’ve been a wonderful friend.”

“You as well, Blaine. I’m… I’m very happy that the King chose you as his concubine.” He glances around, and then leans closer and whispers, “For what it’s worth, I believe you would make a far better consort than Sebastian.”

Elliott is the third person to tell him so, and Blaine’s heart soars at the compliment. “You are too kind, Elliott. I…” he clears his throat. “I’m sorry that the Prince is betrothed to another Prince. I truly believe that you would make a wonderful consort as well.”

Elliott shakes his head. “No, I would not,” he says. “But it is nice of you to say. Brittany…” he trails off, eyes going to her room. “If one of Kurt’s concubines was to be consort, it would be her.”

Something clicks in Blaine’s mind, and he opens his mouth to speak, wanting confirmation, but he is stopped when the sound of a door opening fills the room.

Blaine and Elliott both turn to see the Prince entering through the servant’s door. Blaine feels his heart skip a beat at the sight of him, and he quickly pulls his hand out of Elliott’s. His cheeks redden as the Prince’s eyes land on him.

“Blaine,” the Prince says, eyes widening. “I’m surprised to see you awake.”

“Yes, well,” Blaine’s heart pounds wildly in his chest. The Prince is dressed in his sleep clothes, loose and billowy, yet he still looks beautiful. Blaine wishes he would stop noticing the Prince’s beauty. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Right,” the Prince says. His eyes go to Elliott, who is already standing. “I was just, um. I find it impersonal when servants send for…” he gestures to Elliott, who is beginning to walk to him.

Blaine thinks of the times he has seen the Prince arrive at the concubine quarters and leave with Elliott or Brittany. He’s always found it rather strange, but thinking on what he knows of the Prince it really should not surprise him.

“I didn’t want to make a racket,” the Prince continues. “Which is why I came through…” he’s babbling, and Blaine cannot help but find it absolutely adorable. “I just came to get Elliott,” he finally finishes, biting his bottom lip as though to stop himself from saying more.

When Elliott reaches the Prince he leans down slightly and kisses him on the cheek, whispering, “Hey,” only just loud enough for Blaine to hear. Blaine looks away, surprised at the feeling of jealousy the tender action causes him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, alright Blaine?” Elliott asks, and Blaine briefly glances at him to nod, showing he has heard. He looks away, but still hears the Prince murmur a quiet, “Let’s go,” and the quiet sound of footsteps. He turns one final time to see the Prince and Elliott disappear through the servant’s door, their hands firmly clasped.

The door clicks shut behind them, and Blaine is left alone, heart still beating wildly in his chest. His mind is once again a mess, guilt and jealousy fighting for control over his entire body. He stares at the door they have disappeared behind, knowing exactly where they are going and what they will be doing. The images flood his mind, jealousy gaining the upper hand to guilt.

He knows he should get control over his feelings. He should put a stop to his budding friendship with the Prince. He should put as much distance between himself and the Prince, for whom his affection grows daily, as possible.

And yet, despite the jealousy coursing through his veins, he still feels incredibly lucky to have even been in the Prince’s presence tonight. To have seen him blushing and tongue-tied, as surprised to see Blaine as Blaine was to see him. He can still feel the Prince’s eyes on him, always looking into him in the same way they did that day at the procession.

Blaine has to force himself to stand and make his way to his room. He practically crawls into his bed, not bothering to draw the curtains around him. His head pounds against his skull as thought after thought, memory after memory, flow through him.

It is almost morning by the time he finally falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/145886561155/one-of-five-613)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is coming a day late everybody! My schedule has been a little hectic lately haha still, as always, please keep [ the warnings for this fic](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost) in mind. this one is a little more explicit than the previous ones have been, but it’s all in Blaine’s mind, and all Klaine, so shouldn’t be too much for anybody ;)

Blaine sleeps through breakfast the next day, waking closer to the afternoon than to the morning.

As soon as he awakens he feels his mind begin to fog once more, and he buries his face into his pillow, wishing there were a way he could make his thoughts _stop_.

He stands and dresses, wearing a simple shirt and vest over tight breeches. He’s deep into his closet, and his eye catches on David’s sleep shirt, buried between his old clothes, the ones he barely touches. All it does is make him feel further distressed.

He paces his room, trying to think of what to do. Everything feels like too much.

His eyes catch on the piece of paper still sitting on his table from the other day. He sits at the table and dips his quill in ink, and before he can think of what he is doing he is writing.

 _The King no longer calls upon me,_ he writes. _It distresses me more than I can bear. It has almost been three weeks since I was called upon, and while I know that is not much time, I fear that it will become longer. In that time he has called on Sue once and Sebastian twice, possibly three times. I know I should not worry about such matters, but I cannot help but fear that Sebastian is poised to become the King’s favourite once more. If that happens, what will become of me?_

_I miss my family. I try not to, but no matter how many times I push their memories away I cannot help it. I miss them more than I can bear, and I desperately wish to write to them to know how they are, but I fear that if I write to them and they write me back I will not be able to stop myself from begging the King to allow me to return to Westerville. If I should do that, I am not quite sure that I would ever be able to return._

_I cannot stop thinking about the possibility that the new gardener is my brother. I know that Cooper came to the capital to become an entertainer, but I do not know what has become of him. It has been years since I’ve seen or heard from him. I do not know what I would do if it turned out to really be him. Part of me hopes that it is not him. Another part of me yearns so deeply for home that I want nothing more but to discover that it truly is Cooper. I wish to reunite with my brother almost as much as I wish to never see him again._

_Sebastian has been taunting me and it is getting in my head. He says he doesn’t believe that I am innocent and he is right. I have not been faithful to the King, with my body or with my mind. Most nights I touch myself whilst fantasizing of the Prince. I have convinced myself that it is not a problem because my fantasies always overlap with memories of my nights with the King. Now I am not so sure. What would the King think if he knew that I thought of his own son making love to me almost every night? If he knew I laid with David the night before I was called to the castle? He already does not desire me as he did. He has already grown bored of me. If he knew of my thoughts, of my memories…_

_I fear I am falling in love with the Prince._

Blaine stares at the paper, full of his words. He feels as though all of his emotions have been drained out of his body and into the paper through his quill. With a deep breath he takes the paper in hand and crumples it up. He walks out of his room calmly, heading to the common room. Once there, he ignores Will and Emma, who are talking quietly on one of the couches, and heads directly for the fireplace on the other side of the room. There is a fire roaring in it, a testament to the cooler weather.

He takes one final look at the paper in his hands, then throws it into the fire, allowing the flames to consume his worries, fears, and guilt.

**

After a lunch shared with Emma and Brittany, Blaine changes into his riding clothes and sets off into the gardens.

The weather is definitely cooling down, and Blaine shivers a little as he walks. He will have to begin wearing his thicker shirts and vests.

Daisy is, unfortunately, unavailable, but, as usual, Blaine is told that he is allowed to ride any of the King’s horses. Blaine chooses Pepper, a black horse whom Carole seems to favour should Daisy not be available to ride.

At first he simply rides her around the small greens next to the stable, acclimating to how she rides. He likes her. She’s easy to ride and follows his orders easily. He decides that he will ride her should Daisy be unavailable from now on.

After some time getting used to her (and allowing her to get used to him), he steers her down one of the paths, the one leading further from the castle and nearing the forest. They go at a slow trot, Blaine in absolutely no hurry. The wind is cool, but it feels nice on his face, and he allows himself to enjoy this quiet solitude.

When they reach where the path diverges, Blaine decides to take the left path instead of the usual right, which he knows leads to a larger pasture, where he does most of his riding. He rarely goes down the left path, as it leads to an area with more trees and more paths, making it easy to get lost. Of course, he has the entire day, so he’s sure that even if he briefly loses his way he will no doubt make it back before sundown.

They continue at a slow pace, Blaine enjoying the scenery around them. The shade from the trees make things cooler, and eventually Blaine speeds Pepper up slightly, wanting to warm himself up.

He steers her down many different paths, not bothering to look where he goes. His mind is clear and his heart is light. At the moment, he has absolutely no worries.

An hour must have past since he first diverged onto this path when the sound of grunting and metal hitting metal reaches his ears. Curious, Blaine steers Pepper in the direction of the noises, making sure to go slow and remain quiet. He is quite sure that he will not find any form of enemy, but he prefers to be safe than to be sorry.

It isn’t long before he finds the source of the sounds, and he freezes as his eyes take in the sight.

The Prince is standing in a small clearing, wearing nothing but a pair of loose breeches similar to those Blaine saw him in the night before. His chest glistens with sweat as he spars with an equally undressed blond man. A blonde woman in similarly loose clothing is standing nearby with a sword in hand.

Blaine watches in fascination as the men spar. He can’t seem to take his eyes off the Prince. He moves with a quickness and agility that Blaine could not have predicted, eyes sharp and focused as he attempts to disarm the other man. His feet move quickly, and his sword glides through the air like a knife through butter. Blaine has never seen anybody handle a sword so effortlessly in his life.

Soon the Prince has the other man disarmed, his sword at his neck. The man grins at him and the Prince grins back, chuckling and lowering his sword.

“Let’s take a break,” the woman says. “Then you and I will spar again. We’ll see if you can keep this winning streak up, eh?”

“You know I can never beat you, Quinn,” the Prince says, and the woman shrugs, setting her sword against a nearby tree. Blaine can see that she is smirking.

“You couldn’t beat me yesterday. Today may be another story.”

“Yesterday, the day before,” the Prince shakes his head. “I know you mean well, Quinn, but we all know that I will never be able to disarm you.”

She continues to smirk as she and the other man go to a basket and pull out rolls of bread. “We’ll see,” she says. She bites into the roll, and her eyes move past the Prince and land on Blaine. She raises a curious eyebrow, and Blaine wishes he were not atop a horse so that he could back away faster.

“I think we have a voyeur,” she says, nodding his way. The Prince turns and Blaine blushes, gripping Pepper’s reins tightly.

The Prince smiles when he sees him and waves him over. “Blaine,” he greets, as Blaine steers Pepper towards him. “I see you found my secret training spot.”

Blaine dismounts Pepper with as much agility as he can muster. “I’m sorry for intruding, Your Highness,” he bows as he speaks.

“Nonsense,” the Prince says. “I interrupted your talk with Elliott last night, it only seems fair you return the favour.” He’s smiling and his voice is teasing. Blaine feels his throat dry and he swallows thickly in an attempt to relieve the feeling. “Did you catch any of the sparring?”

“I did, your Highness,” he admits.

The Prince raises an eyebrow. “What did you think?”

Blaine blushes and ducks his head. “I do not know much about fighting, your Highness.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Blaine glances up to find the Prince smirking at him. His cheeks darken further. “You fight excellently,” he says quietly.

The Prince grins. “You flatter me.”

Blaine finds his eyes roaming, falling to the Prince’s bare chest, lean and muscular, heaving as the Prince attempts to catch his breath. How many times has Blaine fantasized about this very chest, heaving just as heavily but in a very different setting? He quickly looks away.

“I only speak the truth,” he whispers. “I… I have not seen many fights, but I know enough to know that you are an excellent swordsman.”

The Prince’s grin grows. “I’d like to think I’m on my way to becoming one. Sam was going easy on me.”

“You should not be so hard on yourself,” the other man says. “I wasn’t going easy on you, you’ve just become a good fighter.”

“Theoretically,” the Prince says, winking at Blaine, who ducks his head once more. “What brings you out here?”

Blaine shrugs. “I felt like going somewhere new on my ride. I stumbled upon this clearing by accident.”

“I see,” the Prince says, nodding. “It’s too bad, really. I was hoping to bring you here someday. You know, for one of our rides.”

He says it as though they have been on more than one. As though them riding together again was an inevitability. Blaine feels his knees go weak.

“You still could,” he says, holding onto Pepper’s rein’s tighter. “I can pretend I’ve never been here.”

“Now where would be the fun in that?” the Prince teases, winking once more, and Blaine feels his cheeks redden further. “Listen,” the Prince’s voice is more serious now, and all of the mischief has left his face. “I actually wanted to talk to you about last night.”

Blaine’s lips part in surprise. “What about last night?”

The Prince shrugs, one arm coming up to his shoulders, which he scratches absentmindedly. “I don’t know. I sort of felt… strange? Like there was something not right in the air. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. I don’t know what you and Elliott were talking about, but-”

Blaine shakes his head instantly. “Oh, no, everything's fine. Elliott and I were just… chatting. I did not realize he was waiting for you, so I was surprised to see you but that… that is all.”

The Prince looks him over, one skeptical eyebrow raised. “You’re sure? I don’t want things to be strange between us.”

“Why would they be?”

The Prince opens his mouth as though to speak, but closes it soon after. His eyes roam over Blaine’s face, seemingly searching for something.

“You’re right,” he finally says. “I must have simply misread the room. I’m glad everything is alright.”

Blaine nods. “Yes, as am I.”

“Kurt,” the woman is holding up another roll. “Come get some food before we begin sparring again.”

The Prince’s eyes travel over Blaine’s face one more, searching. Blaine wishes more than anything that he would find whatever it is he is searching for. He also knows, however, how dangerous it might be if he did.

“You’re welcome to stay and watch, if you wish.”

Blaine’s eyes widen in surprise. He was expecting the Prince to ask him to leave. “Oh! Well, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense. I’m asking you to stay. You can tie Pepper up near Daisy, Poppy, and Jack,” he gestures to where the rest of the horses are tied to nearby trees.

“I…” Blaine knows what he should do. He knows what will be better in the long run. He knows what he should say. And yet, what comes out of his mouth is, “I would love to stay.”

The Prince grins. “Wonderful! I think Sam brought a blanket along, you can sit on that.”

Blaine takes Pepper to where the other horses are as the Prince goes to set up a spot for him to sit and watch. Blaine glances at him every now and again, blushing at the sight of the Prince’s back muscles shifting as he moves.

One of these days Blaine will be able to stop himself from giving in to his heart when it comes to the Prince. As his eyes travel to the Prince’s backside, causing him to blush deeply, he hopes that that day comes soon.

**

Watching the Prince train is fascinating. Although he never worried that he would be bored, Blaine didn’t expect to be as riveted by it as he is. He cannot take his eyes off the Prince even for a moment, watching with complete and total fascination as he spars with whom he assumes must be Lady Fabray and Sir Evans for what must be hours.

Never before has he thought of fighting as a form of art, but the Prince seems to make it one. Everything is seamless, fluid. Perfectly measured and perfectly timed. It’s wonderful to watch.

At one point the Prince spars with Lady Fabray and Sir Evans at the same time, holding a sword in each hand. He is disarmed in the end, two swords at his throat, but he holds his own for quite some time.

Blaine watches enraptured for what must be hours. He can tell that Lady Fabray is the best fighter between the three, but he can’t help thinking that, should he ever be in danger, he would want the Prince to protect him. Yes, Lady Fabray and Sir Evans are both wonderful fighters, Lady Fabray one of the best he has ever seen, but there’s something about the Prince that just…

It might have a little something to do with how nice the Prince’s arms look and how good Blaine thinks they would feel wrapped around him. But he tries not to think too much about that.

After taking on both knights at once, the Prince wipes the sweat off his forehead and announces that he is officially finished training for the day.

“Are you sure?” Sir Evans asks, picking up one of the Prince’s sword from the ground, smirking at the Prince. “You don’t want to get a couple extra hours in? Build up some more endurance for when the Prince of Essex comes to visit?”

“Sam!” The Prince looks positively shocked at Sir Evan’s words, which just makes Sir Evans and Lady Fabray laugh. Blaine watches the interaction as closely as he watched the training, though his heart feels heavier now than it did before.

“What?” Sir Evans winks at him. “There aren’t any rules against pre-marital-”

“Okay, enough,” the Prince says. “Go get dressed and get out of my sight. I’ve seen enough of you for today.”

“But you haven’t seen enough of the Prince yet,” Lady Fabray chimes in, and Sir Evans laughs loudly while the Prince just scowls.

Blaine looks away, feeling heat creep up his neck. Something heavy settles in his stomach as he listens to the Prince and the two knights snip at each other teasingly. He sits in silence, watching the horses rather than the people, trying not to pay attention to the specifics of the conversation.

“Hey,” the Prince’s voice says, and Blaine looks up to find him standing almost directly in front of him, his chest now covered by a loose shirt and a tight, intricately woven vest. “We’re getting ready to head out. Do you want to ride back with us?”

Blaine nods, then blushes as the Prince holds out a hand to help him up. It’s the second time that he has touched the Prince’s hand, and he finds it once again soft and smooth. Nothing like the hands he would expect from a man who just spent the last three hours sparring with a sword.

Nothing like David’s hands. Nothing like the King’s hands.

Blaine helps put away the blanket he was sitting on, putting it into the basket that has been attached to Poppy. He unties Pepper from her tree and mounts her, slightly embarrassed at the way he fumbles and how smooth the other three mount their horses in comparison.

Lady Fabray and Sir Evans automatically take the lead, riding ahead of Blaine and the Prince and beginning to talk amongst themselves. Blaine glances at the Prince, who is riding beside him in silence, still glaring at the two ahead of them.

“I’m sorry for them,” he eventually says, gesturing to the two knights. “They like to tease me, but they so rarely get the chance.”

Blaine forces a smile and says, “I’m not quite sure what there is to apologize for. They are just being your friends, Your Highness. Friends tease.”

The Prince raises an eyebrow. “Are you teasing me now?”

Blaine has to look away as memories of the King calling him a tease as he hovered above the King’s cock, barely pressing it inside himself, smirking all the while, enters his mind. The memory is almost instantly substituted for fantasy, with the Prince now below him, hands gripping Blaine’s hips and gritting out, “Tease,” as Blaine rubs the head of his cock against his stretched hole.

“Um,” the Prince says, and Blaine looks up, certain his face is redder than the garden’s roses. “Are you… I’m sorry, are we not there yet? I was… I’m sorry, I won’t tease.”

Oh, god. His mind is already conjuring up a scenario in which the Prince is above him, inside him, thrusting far too slowly, his cock only barely grazing his prostate with every thrust, smirking down and raising an eyebrow, purposefully torturing Blaine, who writhes on his sheets.

He can feel his cock twitching in his pants and dear god, he would like to disappear right into the ground. If the earth could open and swallow him that would be absolutely wonderful.

“No, it’s not that,” Blaine says, though he knows it’s taken too long to respond. “I’m… sorry. It’s just cold out. I’m a little distracted. But I _was_ teasing you,” _don’t think of it, don’t think of it, don’t think of it_. “It’s only fair you tease me back.”

His cock is definitely half-hard, and it is quite possible the most uncomfortable thing Blaine has ever felt. He winces and tries to think of anything other than of himself teasing the Prince, or the Prince teasing him back. It’s difficult, as the images in his mind are so tempting.

He glances at the Prince and finds him smiling. “You should have mentioned you were cold,” he says. “I brought a jacket along just in case. If I had known I would have let you wear it.”

The wind is chilly, but Blaine would rather brave that then have to deal with his impure thoughts whilst surrounded by the scent of the Prince.

“It’s quite alright. We will be back at the stables soon, and it’s only a short walk to the castle from there.”

“Still.”

They fall into silence once more, which is worse because now Blaine has not even the smallest distraction from his fantasies. In his mind the Prince is still fucking him slowly, torturously, and in reality his cock is still hardening, though thankfully not as rapidly as before.

Desperate for something to distract him, Blaine turns to the Prince and says, “So the Prince of Essex is coming to visit?”

The Prince nods, though he turns away from Blaine when he does so. “Yes, indeed. They sent a messenger a month ago asking if he and some of his guards and servants would be welcome anytime soon. My Father took it upon himself to invite them without discussing it with me. They will arrive in two weeks.”

Blaine tries to think if the King mentioned anything to him a month ago, when he was still being called upon, but he cannot recall. “Do you not wish him to come?”

The Prince shrugs. “It’s… it’s complicated. I would have preferred to visit him in Essex rather than have him come here.”

“Why is that?” Blaine can’t help but ask.

The Prince looks at the path ahead of him, clearly melancholy. “Brittany, mostly,” he says. “We’ve been rebuilding our relationship, and so far it has been going well. I…” he glances over at Blaine, lips curved downward and eyes heavy. “I worry that she will become angry at me again. Or simply sad. Neither is something that I want.”

Blaine swallows thickly and then says what has been on his mind for a few days. “She was the one you hoped to marry, isn’t she?”

The Prince’s eyes widen at the question. He looks away, eyes going back to the path. He doesn’t respond for some time, but finally nods.

“I forgot my father spoke to you about that,” he says. “Yes, Brittany… I always planned to make her my consort. Since before she was my concubine. But there were… complications. Beyond our desire to ally with Essex.”

“What kind of complications?”

The Prince turns to him and gives him a small smile. “You’ll have to be friends with me for a little longer before you find that out.”

He’s evading him, but Blaine can’t help but be glad for the playful tone. The mood lifts almost instantly, as does some of the weight on Blaine’s heart.

“Anyway, this visit won’t be all bad,” the Prince says, clearly eager to change the subject as well. “My close friend, Lady Santana Lopez, will be visiting me from the North as well. It has been almost a year since I last saw her and I am quite looking forward to our reunion.”

Blaine smiles. “It sounds like you have some busy weeks coming up.”

The Prince glances at him, and sends him a wink. “Not too busy for my friends.”

The last bit of heaviness disappears from Blaine’s heart, and the smile doesn’t leave his face for the rest of the ride

**

His hardness has mostly subsided by the time the Prince drops him off at the entrance to the concubine quarters, bowing as he says goodbye and then marching off in the direction of an entrance closer to his own quarters.

Blaine watches him go, eyes roaming over every part of the Prince’s body. He can’t help but sigh, frustrated at himself for being unable to keep his eyes in check, but also frustrated that such a perfect specimen of man is so near him so often but utterly impossible to be with.

He barely stops to say hello to Sue, Will, and Emma, who are all chatting in the common area, hurrying to his room.

Once he is alone he strips his clothes immediately and brings a hand down to his cock, which is beginning to harden once more.

Yes, the Prince truly is a beautiful specimen. His shoulders so broad, yet so lean at the same time. His arms solid, perfect for wrapping around Blaine’s waist and holding him close, but also strong enough to hold him up as he fucks him against a wall.

He groans and begins to speed up his thrusts as he thinks of it, of the Prince finding him in the stables one day and pushing him up against the nearest wall and fucking the life out of him. He begins to fuck his own fist in tandem with the Prince’s imagined thrusts, wishing he had taken the time to find some oil so that he could finger himself as well. He knows his fingers won’t ever be the same as an actual cock, but he feels terribly empty and they would really be better than nothing.

His breathing is heavy and his fist flies over his dick as the Prince fucks him in his mind, Blaine’s legs tight around his hips, one of the Prince’s arms holding him up while the other rests flat on the wall next to Blaine’s head, keeping them in place.

A loud moan leaves his lips as he comes over his hand, hips thrusting erratically and heart thumping wildly in his chest.

As soon as he’s done he falls to the floor, naked and spent, still leaning against his door. He hadn’t even bothered to make it to the bed.

His head falls against the door and he groans. This is the second time he has masturbated to only thoughts of the Prince, the King nowhere in sight.

What’s worse, he doesn’t feel nearly as guilty about it as he should.

With another groan he forces himself to stand up and change into more comfortable clothes. He washes his hands in the water closet, then takes a bit of time to make himself look more presentable and less like he just came while leaning against his door and thinking of the Prince fucking him in the stables.

Why did he even think of that? He crinkles his nose in disgust and shakes his head. How unhygienic.

One final look over in the mirror and he decides that he is good enough to be in public. He exits the water closet and heads to the common room to read until supper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/146107343210/one-of-five-713)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday everybody! This chapter is a little longer, but a LOT goes down in this one! I hope you enjoy, and as always, please keep [ the warnings for this fic ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost) in mind!

Blaine is not present when the King calls upon Will, once again in the clearing watching the Prince train. He'd run into the Prince, Lady Fabray, and Sir Evans at the stable, and had not hesitated a moment when the Prince asked him to join them again.

When he returns to find Emma curled up on the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest and her chin resting atop them, staring anxiously at the door.

“Hey,” he greets, still in a rather good mood. He got to watch the Prince strip his vest and his shirt today, and honestly, it was far more gratifying than simply arriving to see him shirtless.

“Hey,” she replies, voice weak, eyes never leaving the door.

He frowns and goes to her, sitting on the couch beside her. “What's wrong?”

She barely moves. “Will got called.”

“Oh.” Blaine thinks that after a long month of not being called on he should be immune to the pain of once again not being chosen, but it seems he is not. “I'm… sorry?”

“It's going to be me next,” she says, voice slightly higher pitched than usual. Her eyes stay on the door, but they fill with tears. “He might call on Will or Sue or Sebastian a few more times before but…”

Blaine cannot understand the fear in her voice. He's been wanting to be called again since the King called Sue for the first time. He has actually grown to enjoy his time with the King. He likes sex, he's grown to find, and the King is not the selfish lover he could be.

“Maybe it won't be,” he says, as much for her sake as for his.

She shakes her head instantly. “No. It will be. He…” she takes in a big, shakey breath. “He rarely calls on Will directly. Not since he started going for me.” Her shoulders bunch together, making her seem much smaller than usual. “He would always call for me, expecting Will. If he's calling for Will…”

Blaine chews on his bottom lip. He may not understand her fear, but he can see that it's real and strong. He has no idea how to help her, though. Brittany and Will seem to be the only ones who can do that.

“It’ll be okay,” Blaine says hesitantly, debating whether he should put a hand on her shoulder for comfort. He decides not to, worrying it will startle her more than it will comfort her.

She shakes her head. “I can't go to him,” she whispers, and Blaine can see the tears starting to stream down her cheeks. “I can't do it.”

Blaine doesn't know how to respond, doesn't know enough of the situation to do so.

The servant door opens and Brittany appears with a half-eaten bun in her hand. Blaine turns to her, desperate for help.

Her eyes widen when she sees Emma and hurried to her side. Blaine moves over on the couch, making room for her between them.

“Emma,” she whispers, hovering her hands at a safe distance from Emma’s shoulders. “Emma, what happened?”

Emma seems to crumple, and she finally pulls her eyes away from the door, turning and melting into Brittany’s welcoming embrace.

Blaine watches them awkwardly, unsure if he should stay or leave. Thankfully Brittany turns to him and smiles, saying, “I can take care of her now.” Blaine nods, then slowly stands and retreats to his room, glancing back every now and again to see if Brittany has changed her mind and wants him to stick around. The last time he does so he catches her eye, and she lifts a hand in a shooing motion.

He closes the door to his little hallway and sighs, wishing he could have done more.

**

The next day he walks to the kitchen, going through the main halls instead of the servant ones. There are people hustling and bustling everywhere, servants everywhere cleaning and carrying things, too many of them to be confined to their own secret halls.

The King seems to be going all out in his preparations for his future son-in-law. If the King still desired him Blaine might know all about it. As it is…

When he arrives at the kitchen he is instantly met with a, “No.”

Shelby appears before him, shaking her head and blocking his entrance. “You can’t be here.”

“What? Shelby, I’m always here.”

She shakes her head some more. “Not today, and not for the next little while. We are going crazy over here trying to prepare everything for when the Prince of Essex and his party arrive. I can’t have you distracting my best cook.”

“The Prince of Essex isn’t coming for another week,” Blaine says, pouting. “I can help-”

“Nope, not now. This is all too important. Come back after the Prince of Essex has gone. Scoot.”

Blaine glances over her shoulder and sees Rachel kneading dough and mouthing ‘Sorry’. He sighs, but nods. “Okay,” he says. “I guess I’ll come back when things get less crazy.”

“Atta boy,” Shelby says, stepping forward to encourage him to leave faster. “If you see Finn tell him the same thing. My daughter is absolutely off limits until this is all over and done with. Now, shoo. Get out of here.”

Blaine glances behind her to see Rachel waving goodbye with a pout on her face. He nods at Shelby and turns around, going right back the way he came.

Spending time with Rachel in the kitchens is one of his best time consumers. Her constant chatter keeps him distracted better than anything else. He’s not sure how he’s going to fill his time now that she’s unavailable.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he almost runs headfirst into the Prince. Thankfully he hears the, “Whoa there,” moments before it’s too late, and stops himself mere inches away from the Prince.

The man looks him over, lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “Something on your mind?”

Blaine glances around them, and quickly falls into a bow. “Your Highness,” he says.

As he straightens himself up he sees the Prince bowing his head gently. “Blaine,” he says, though his voice sounds teasing. “What was going on in your head? You were barely paying attention to where you were going.”

“I’m sorry, your Highness,” Blaine says, blushing at his social misdemeanour. “My head was in the clouds. I meant to spend some time in the kitchens with Rachel, but Shelby forbade me from doing so. It’s a madhouse in there.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” the Prince says. “Shelby is intense enough on a regular day. Every time we have high profile visitors she gets a little…” he winces, tilting his head to the right. “Well, you saw her.”

“I did, indeed,” Blaine says, smiling softly. Mere seconds in the presence of the Prince and his mood is already lifted.

“So,” the Prince says, clasping his hands in front of him. “If you’ve been kicked out of the kitchen does that mean that you have some time?”

Blaine’s smile widens. “I may have a few minutes to spare.”

The Prince chuckles. “Would you like to accompany me for a walk through the gardens? I’ve been wanting to get out of this castle. The last few days have been absolutely stifling. If my father corners me for some inane reason one more time…”

As if on cue, a too familiar voice shouts, “Kurt!” and the Prince shuts his eyes in a wince and groans.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” he mutters. He turns on his heel and says in an entirely fake bright and cheery tone, “Father! How wonderful to see you.”

“I’m so glad I found you,” the King says, eyes only on the Prince, seemingly unaware of Blaine’s presence. Blaine isn’t sure if he wants to make himself known or step behind the Prince in hopes that the King will not see him. It’s the first time he’s seen the King in a month, after all. Even when he was being called by the King on a regular basis he rarely saw him outside of the bedroom. He isn’t entirely sure what the protocol is in this situation.

“I just received the robes I ordered for you from Miss Cohen-Chang, and they are a far darker red than you wanted. Should I send them back and demand new ones? Or do you want to keep them and see if you can pull them off?”

The Prince sighs. “You were searching for me to ask me _that_?”

“Well, yes. These are the robes you’re going to wear when your future husband arrives. I want you to make a good first impression.”

While he cannot see his face, Blaine notices how the tips of the Prince’s ears turn red. “I’ve already met him!”

“Irregardless,” the King waves a dismissive hand. “Why don’t you come with me and take a look at the robes, and then we can decide together what to do?”

The Prince huffs. “Actually, Blaine and I were just going to go for a short walk through the gardens.”

Blaine stiffens as the Prince turns to him, stepping aside and fully revealing Blaine to the King in doing so. The King’s eyes land on him, and his lips part in surprise. Blaine feels his heart stop in his chest.

He bows instantly, murmuring, “Your Majesty,” as he does.

“Blaine,” the King says, taking a step toward him. Blaine straightens up and forces himself to look the King in the eye. “I did not know that you and my son were friends.”

“Yes, well, ever since you insisted that I apologize to Blaine for being ever so rude to him I’ve found myself growing fond of him,” the Prince says, shifting so that he is standing slightly closer to Blaine. Blaine wants to take a step back and tell the Prince to _be quiet_ , but his legs and mouth seem to be frozen shut. “We’ve become quite good friends. Or, at least I’d like to think we have.”

The King glances between them, taking in the Prince’s tall and stubborn stance and whatever Blaine must look like. Probably like a deer who has just been surprised by a pack of hunters.

“How wonderful,” the King says, though his face does not match the sentiment, eyes slightly narrowed and lips pressed together thinly. “I’m glad you’re making friends Kurt. Even if it is with my concubines.”

Blaine wishes the floor would just open beneath him and end his misery. He has absolutely no idea what to do, standing caught between the King, who hasn’t called on him in a month and yet is acting entirely possessive and, dare Blaine say it, jealous, and the Prince, for whom his fondness grows daily.

“Yes, Blaine has become quite a good friend, so I am glad as well.” The Prince stands even taller, then continues, “We were just heading out now, so if you would excuse us.”

“Of course,” the King says, eyes going to Blaine. “Wonderful to see you, Blaine,” he takes a step forward, then leans down so that his face is incredibly close to Blaine’s and whispers, “Come to my chambers tonight after dinner.”

He stands, and says to his son, “We will discuss the robe issue later.” He then gives Blaine a heated look, one which sends chills down Blaine’s spine, and turns on his heel and walks away.

Blaine’s heart is beating wildly in his chest. He hears the Prince huff beside him, but he can’t seem to look away from the retreating form of the King.

The King who just called upon him for the first time in a month.

“Shall we go, Blaine?” the Prince asks, sounding frustrated. Blaine nods, eyes still on the King.

“Yes,” he says absently, nodding again. “Yes, let’s go.”

**

The gardens are as chaotic as the rest of the castle. Everybody seems to be doing as many things as they possibly can, running around carrying tools and plants as though the world were ending tomorrow. Blaine doesn’t know how this all happened so fast. Yesterday everybody seemed to be going about their business like normal.

He and the Prince have been walking in silence for some time, the Prince with his hands behind his back, smiling politely to every person who stops to bow and say hello. Blaine isn’t quite sure what to say. He is happy to be with the Prince, as he always is, but he feels more than ever like he is doing something wrong.

 _It’s okay_ he tries to tell himself. _If the King had a problem with it he would have said something. He wouldn’t have let you go on this walk_.

He can’t help but worry, though. It’s been a month since the King asked for him, and he sees him once with the Prince and suddenly he wants him? It makes Blaine feel anxious. Worried, about what might happen tonight.

“I’m sorry,” the Prince says, breaking through Blaine’s inner reverie.

Blaine looks up at him, confused. “Sorry for what?”

The Prince sighs, stopping and looking at Blaine with the genuine sincerity Blaine saw the first time they spoke. “For before. You know, with my father. You were obviously uncomfortable, and I just-”

“Your Highness, it’s okay-”

The Prince puts a hand up to stop him. “It’s not okay,” he says. “I can tell it’s not okay. You haven’t smiled once since we saw him, and we’ve been walking in silence for near a half an hour.” He glances up the path and, spotting a bench, begins to lead Blaine toward it. “Blaine, I need you to answer me something, and I need you to be honest.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

The Prince doesn’t respond until they reach the bench, hands fidgeting and face contorting in thought. He sits, and Blaine hesitantly sits beside him.

After a far too long silence, the Prince looks up at Blaine and asks, “Will you ever not call me that?”

Blaine’s eyes widen, in surprise and confusion. That was not what he expected to be asked. “Call you what, Your High-”

“That,” the Prince says, cutting him off. Blaine presses his lips together, and looks at his lap. “No, don’t - I’m not angry.” The Prince sighs again and Blaine looks up to see him running a hand over his face. “I just - I like you, Blaine. You’re fun, and I don’t feel any pressure to be anything other than myself around you. But I… I feel like it isn’t mutual.”

“Of course it is,” Blaine hurries to say, wanting, _needing_ , the Prince to understand how deeply he cares for him. As a friend. “You… you’ve become one of my closest friends.”

“So why do you still call me Your Highness?”

Blaine stares at the Prince, who looks a mix of pain and sadness, brow furrowed low and bottom lip sucked into his mouth. Blaine opens his mouth to speak, but isn’t quite sure how to respond.

Why does he call the Prince ‘Your Highness’? Because it’s his formal address. Because Blaine may no longer be a baker boy from Westerville, but he isn’t some high class noble. He is a concubine. He knows his place.

He doesn’t think any of that will make the Prince feel better.

“What… what do you want me to call you?” he asks, still unsure if that will help. He doesn’t like how quickly this situation has escalated, between seeing the King and now this… Blaine was most certainly not prepared for his day to take this turn.

The Prince purses his lips, eyes full of a sadness Blaine doesn’t think he fully comprehends. “Ideally?” he asks, voice quiet, looking down at his lap. “Kurt.”

“I…” is as far as Blaine gets, lips remaining parted mid-sentence. Kurt. The Prince wants him to call him _Kurt_. Just as the King likes Blaine to call him Burt. Just like Lady Hudson wants him to call her Carole.

Blaine isn’t sure which comparison fits better. He looks down at his own lap and asks, “When we are alone?”

The Prince shakes his head. “Always, Blaine. You’re my friend. I’m not afraid of letting anybody know it. I -” he sighs, and Blaine glances up hesitantly. “I’ve told you before I don’t have many friends my own age. Sure, I have Brittany and Elliott, but they’re different. Finn keeps telling me that he’s my friend, and maybe he could be if he allowed me to train him like I’ve been wanting to, but as my page…” he shakes his head. “And Sam and Quinn, you know, they’re great when we train, but as soon as we’re done they ride in front of me. Sometimes one rides in front and one behind. They’re keeping watch over me, protecting me. Because I’m… well, me.”

He meets Blaine’s eye, and Blaine can see how much it is hurting him to admit these things.

“I know it sounds silly. Maybe I’m being childish, I don’t know,” he takes a deep breath before continuing, “but you’re the only friend I have that feels like… like I can actually be friends with you. Not because you’re my page, or because you’re my knight, but because… well, because we get along. Because we like each other.” He shakes his head, looking away once more. “But if… if you feel like you _have_ to be my friend because I’m the Prince…”

“No!” Blaine says, almost shouts. The Prince turns to him, and Blaine can see that there are tears pooling in his eyes. He wants more than anything to wipe them away and bring back the Prince’s beautiful smile. As friends. “No.”

The Prince raises an eyebrow. “Is that all? A very compelling argument.”

Blaine shakes his head. “It’s not all, I’m just trying to find the words.” He groans and buries his face in his hands. “I’m sorry. My mind is simply not working right now. It’s all over the place. With you, and the King, I just… I’m sorry, I’m just trying to find the right words.”

He inhales and exhales deeply, trying to remain calm. What good will it do if they are both found crying? He closes his eyes and breathes in and out once more. Then, again.

“Your -” he winces, then slowly opens his eyes. “Kurt.” The word sounds foreign, but wonderful. Something he wants to say over, and over, and over again. “I’m not forcing myself to be your friend because you’re the Prince. If… If anything I’ve spent the last month trying to convince myself what a terrible idea this is.”

“What?” the Prince - Kurt, asks, eyebrows furrowed deeply, one tear rolling down his cheek.

“Yeah,” Blaine says, nodding. “Not even because you’re the Prince. It’s more about who your father is.”

“The King,” Kurt says. “Which makes me the Prince.”

“Okay, this is coming out wrong.” Blaine takes another deep breath. “It’s about who _I_ am. In relation to the King.”

“Oh,” the Pr - Kurt says, lips parting. “Oh,” he repeats, more solemnly.

“But even when I think about the potential consequences, awkward situations like what happened earlier in the hall… I still can’t stop myself from spending time with you.” He blushes, but manages to keep his eyes on Kurt. “It’s like my heart and my mind are telling me entirely different things and, well, my heart keeps winning.”

Kurt swallows thickly and inhales sharply through his nose, a loud sniffling sound filling the area. “So you… you do want to be friends?”

Blaine nods. “More than anything. And I… to prove it, I’m going to call you Kurt. Always. Even if the King is right in front of us, okay? I promise.”

Kurt sniffles again and dabs at his wet cheeks with the edge of his shirt sleeve. “You don’t have to do that,” he says. “Not in front of my father. I saw how he responded today, when he saw us together.” He gives Blaine a sad smile. “He’s possessive of what is his.”

Blaine nods, looking at the ground. “Which I am.”

“Hey,” Kurt puts a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Not here, okay? Not when it’s just us. Right now we aren’t the Prince and the King’s concubine. We’re just… Kurt and Blaine. Does that sound okay?”

Blaine smiles, looking up into the Prince’s steel blue eyes, still wet with tears, but happy. Fond.

“Kurt and Blaine sounds wonderful,” Blaine says, smiling wider.

If he were back home, he would reach forward and hug the Prince. Kurt. He would hug Kurt. Perhaps if they were farther from the castle he might do the same. Instead, he seals their friendship by taking his hand and placing it atop Kurt’s and giving it a hard squeeze.

“Holy shit.”

Both men turn, surprised at the intrusion on their conversation. Blaine’s throat dries and his eyes widen when he sees the man standing before him.

“Blaine?” the man asks, arms full of gardening supplies, his eyes as wide as saucers.

Blaine’s heart rate quickens and he pulls his hand off of Kurt’s, a single word escaping his lips like a prayer.

“Cooper.”

The man, his brother, stares at him for several more seconds, then drops the supplies in his hand and rushes to Blaine, leaning over him and pulling him into the tightest possible hug.

“Blaine,” he says, “Oh my god, Blaine, you’re _here_. You’re in the capital, you’re in the _castle_ , you’re-” he pulls away, and Blaine can see that there are tears in his eyes. “You’re _here_.”

Blaine feels beyond overwhelmed. He had done such a good job at convincing himself that the new gardener was not his brother, that now, faced with the reality that it is, he is entirely at a loss as to what to say or do.

Kurt clears his throat, and Blaine pushes his brother away slightly. He turns to see Kurt staring at him with one eyebrow raised, tear tracks on his cheeks but no other signs of their previous discussion present on his face.

“Who’s this?” he asks, gesturing to Cooper.

Cooper turns to Kurt, and his eyes widen. “Your Highness,” he says, instantly dropping to his knees, bowing so low his nose almost touches the ground. Blaine almost rolls his eyes. It’s been years, and Cooper is still as dramatic as ever.

Kurt’s eyebrow raises further and his eyes widen.

“That’s, um. He’s my brother,” Blaine says.

Kurt’s eyes widen. “Your brother?”

Blaine nods. “I didn’t know he worked here,” he says quickly. “I didn’t… I haven’t seen him in years.”

Kurt nods, then glances at the man with his entire body practically nailed to the ground. He gives Blaine an amused smile. “Well, I suppose I should leave you two to get re-acquainted.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Blaine,” Kurt puts his hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “It’s alright. You’ve… we’re okay. I promise.”

Blaine nods. “Okay.”

Kurt smiles, then glances at Blaine’s brother once more and shakes his head. “You can stand,” he says, and Cooper hurries to do so, scrambling to his feet and instantly wiping his hands on his thighs.

“Your Highness, I did not realize it was you, I would have been far more respectful-”

Kurt puts a hand up to stop him. “No apologies necessary.” He turns to Blaine and smiles. “I’m training again in two days time. If you, you know, want to come watch.”

Blaine nods. “I’d love that.”

“Great.” He glances one last time at Cooper, who is looking frantically between Kurt and Blaine as though trying to figure out what is happening, then says, “I will see you then. Good day, Blaine,” he bows his head slightly, then turns to Cooper and says, “Lovely to meet you.”

Blaine can tell that Cooper is about to go to the ground again, and he puts his hand on his brother’s shoulder to stop him. “Good day, Kurt,” he says, the thrill of calling the Prince that in front of somebody else making his entire body warm. Kurt smiles warmly at him, and then turns on his heel and begins to walk back toward the castle.

Blaine watches him go for several moments, then turns to his brother. “Cooper.”

“You-” Cooper points to Kurt’s retreating form. “You call the Prince _Kurt_?!”

“I do,” he says, nodding.

“Blaine, how - how are you here? Why are you here? In such a position that makes a friendship with the Crown Prince possible?”

Blaine blushes and looks down. “Um,” he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “Well, I’m… I’m kind of a concubine.”

Cooper’s eyes widen. “You’re the Prince’s concubine?! I did not even know the Prince took another concubine. I mean, word usually spreads with this kind of thing. Everybody’s been talking about the King’s beautiful new seventeen year old concubine, but I didn’t even know the Prince-”

“No, no, Cooper,” Blaine puts his hands on his brother’s chest to stop his rambling. “I’m not the Prince’s concubine.”

“But,” Cooper points in the direction Kurt disappeared.

“I’m friends with the Prince,” Blaine says. “We were always at the same place at the same time and decided it was silly to pretend that wasn’t a sign.” He takes a deep breath and says, “I’m actually the King’s beautiful new seventeen year old concubine.”

Cooper’s eyes widen, if possible, further. “The King?”

Blaine nods. “The King.”

“So… so since I’ve left home you’ve been moved to the castle, are probably living in the lap of luxury, you’re the King’s concubine, and your best friend is the Prince.”

“I - well, I’m not sure I would call him my _best_ friend, but-”

“Blaine,” Cooper leans in and hugs him again. “Life is going so well for you. I’m so… I’m so happy.”

Now this is just… it’s getting to be too much. Blaine is doing better, relatively speaking, than Cooper, and Cooper is _happy_ about it? That is… that is not the Cooper he knows. Knew.

He pushes Cooper away gently. “Look, Coop. I’ve kind of had a long, really emotionally weird day.”

“It’s barely afternoon,” Cooper says, frowning.

“Yes, but a lot has happened. I just… I don’t know if I’m the right place for a family reunion right now.”

Cooper looks obviously hurt, but he still nods. “No, of course, I understand.”

Blaine chews on his bottom lip, and says, “Why don’t you come to the concubine quarters for lunch in three days? They always bring us far too much food, and everybody sort of does their own thing. We can talk. Catch up.”

“Yeah,” Cooper says instantly. “Yes, I would love that. But why… why not tomorrow? Or the day after?”

Blaine blushes. “Well, you saw me make plans with Kurt just now for the day after tomorrow,” his entire body tingles at saying the name ‘Kurt’ out loud to somebody else for a second time. “And tomorrow… I’m not entirely sure when I will be available tomorrow. I’m meeting the King tonight, so…”

“Oh,” Cooper nods, his own cheeks reddening. “Right, yes. Because of the concubine thing. Yes, of course.” He coughs awkwardly, then says, “Lunch in three days. I can… I can wait. It’s probably better, too. I can warn Mercedes I’ll be gone for a few hours that day. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the warning, since everything is so,” he waves his hands around in the air. “Around here lately.”

“Good,” Blaine smiles. “I… I look forward to catching up with you, Cooper.”

Cooper nods again, then leans in and give Blaine another hug. “I am really, really happy to see you,” he whispers, and Blaine allows himself to hug Cooper back this time.

“Me too,” he whispers back. “Me too.”

**

Blaine spends the rest of the day a bundle of nerves. He stays in his room for the entirety of it, pacing his chamber, trying to nap, trying to read… anything to distract him from the fact that he is seeing the King. Tonight.

He considers going to the common room, but he does not want to run into Sebastian, or find Emma having another breakdown. Too much has already happened today, and he’s not entirely sure he could take anything else.

When dinner finally rolls around he joins everybody in the common area, but doesn’t talk to anybody. It’s not exactly anything new, so thankfully nobody comments on it. He listens absently to the conversation Elliott and Brittany are having about the upcoming visit of the Prince of Essex. Although, from what Blaine can gather, Brittany seems more excited about Kurt’s friend Lady Lopez visiting, whom she says she formed a close friendship with last time she came to the castle.

Blaine picks at his food, too nervous to eat anything. By the time Bryan has left the table, half of his food is still on his plate.

Normally Blaine is the second to leave, but the King said after dinner, and he is sure that the King’s dinner will last longer than his own. So he keeps eating small amounts of food and saying goodnight as one by one the concubines leave the table.

Finally it is just him and Brittany. She turns to him and says, “You’ve barely eaten.”

“I guess I’m not very hungry,” he says. She nods. Blaine chews on his bottom lip, and then says, “You’re being really good about this whole Prince of Essex thing, you know.”

She frowns at him. “What do you mean?”

“Um,” Blaine blushes. “Sorry. I didn’t tell you - Kurt told me. About… you two. How you were planning to…” he waves a hand absently. Brittany stiffens in her seat.

“You call him Kurt?” she asks.

“We’re friends,” Blaine says, trying to sound casual. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She shrugs. “It’s okay,” she says, though the tight smile she gives him tells another story. “You would have found out eventually. Sebastian’s always running his mouth about it, making it sound like we’re the same, or something.” She shakes her head, but puts a hand on Blaine’s. “It really is okay, Blaine. I’ve made my peace with it. I’ve made my peace with Kurt.”

“I still shouldn’t have said anything,” he says quietly. “I shouldn’t be talking about your life with other people. I was friends with you first.”

Her eyes brighten. “You consider me a friend?” she asks, eyes wide.

“Of course,” Blaine says, turning his hand around so that he can clasp hers. She tangles their fingers together, and a deep fondness flows through Blaine. “One of my closest friends here.”

“Me too,” she agrees, smiling. This time, Blaine can tell that it’s genuine. “I mean, you’re one of my closest friends too. Not that I’m one of my closest friends.”

Blaine chuckles and nods. “I understand.” He glances at the large grandfather clock standing near one of the bookshelves and takes a deep breath. “I should get going.”

“Where?” she asks as he stands.

“I’m… I’m meeting the King. He finally called for me.”

She smiles and claps her hands together twice, then holds her hands against her face. “Yay!” she says. “That’s so exciting, Blaine!”

“Thanks,” Blaine says. “It… it kind of is. It’s been a month, so.”

“Well, go on. Don’t keep the King waiting.”

Blaine nods quickly and waves goodbye to her, heading through the servant's door.

Despite the late hour there are still people running around. Blaine thinks he might just try and avoid leaving the concubine quarters as much as he can over the next week or so, worried he will get in somebodies way and ruin everything. There’s a series of books he’s been meaning to read anyway, so he might as well do that.

It isn’t long before he’s turning to the corner which will bring him to the King’s room. He takes a deep breath as he turns it, then stops where he’s standing when he sees Mason standing before the door.

“Blaine,” Mason greets. Blaine approaches him slowly, frowning. “I’m glad you’re here. I have a message to give you.”

Blaine glances at the door behind him. “You… you do?”

Mason nods. “It’s from the King. He says he’s incredibly sorry, but something came up and he is going to be unable to meet with you tonight after all.”

Blaine’s heart sinks right to the bottom of his stomach. “Oh.”

“Sorry,” Mason says, then turns away from him, making it clear that their conversation is over. Blaine continues to stand there for several seconds, but then finally realizes what happened and turns around to return from where he came.

The King didn’t want to see him after all. He must have felt jealous at seeing Blaine with Kurt, but after some time passed he remembered that he doesn’t really like Blaine anymore. That he’s done with him.

Blaine can feel the tears threatening to spill, but he keeps them in until he reaches the concubine quarters. He glances inside, thankful that Brittany has disappeared as well. He makes a run for the door leading to his own private quarters, not wanting to be seen, and only when the door is shut firmly behind him does he allow the tears to fall, the cumulative events of the day finally catching up with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/146215806585/one-of-five-813)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter is a little late! It’s a long one, so hopefully that makes up for the wait ;) as always, please keep [ the warnings for this fic](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost) in mind! Hope you enjoy!

Blaine is thankful that he decided not to meet Cooper that next day because he can’t find it in him to leave his bed all day long.

Brittany brings him some lunch, and Elliott brings him dinner, but he otherwise does not see or interact with anybody.

At one point he thinks he hears the door to his room open, most likely a servant coming to tidy up his room, as always, but whoever it is must notice he is still in bed because by the time Blaine sits up and opens his eyes there is nobody there and his room looks the same as it did the night before.

The longest he stays awake is after Elliott brings him dinner, staying up long enough to hear a quick story from Elliott about how he almost messed up one of the flower arrangements near the Prince’s room that morning and how a servant almost had his head because of it.

Unfortunately all that story does is remind Blaine that he was not actually with the King the previous night, and that his relationship with Kurt is most likely the reason for it. The King probably noticed how infatuated Blaine is with his son and decided to make him pay for it by dangling what Blaine’s been wanting for a month right in front of his face and immediately snatching it away.

Honestly, Blaine has no reason to believe that the King would be so cruel out of jealousy, but he’s never seen the King jealous. His experience of the King has always been kind, friendly, and sexual in nature. He doesn’t know anything about him outside of those parameters.

The logical thing to do, of course, would be to cut off all contact with Kurt. Tell him that they can’t be friends anymore, not if it’s going to affect Blaine’s life like this. The King is obviously already suspicious of their relationship, but if he were to ever find out that Blaine actually _likes_ Kurt, that he fantasizes about him late at night, that he honestly thought that it was Kurt calling for him that day after the procession…

The problem is that logic doesn’t seem to work when it comes to Kurt. The very thought on going back on his word, on telling the Prince that they actually cannot be friends after only just promising the opposite, breaks Blaine’s heart.

So, despite desperately wanting to lie in bed for the rest of his life, when he goes to sleep that night he leaves the curtains open, knowing the sun will awaken him. He promised Kurt he would watch him train.

**

Blaine is distracted the entire walk to the stables. He’s so distracted that he almost wanders off on different paths several times, but always manages to catch himself just before he does it.

He keeps picturing himself arriving at the stable and finding the King instead of Kurt, standing with his arms crossed and shaking his head, preparing to exile him for adultery, or worse.

 _You haven’t actually committed adultery,_ he has to tell himself. _Fantasizing isn’t adultery._

 _Maybe with the Prince you haven’t committed adultery_ , another part of his brain reminds him. _With David you did_.

Maybe the King found out about that. Found out that all this time he was getting off on being the only man who had ever touched Blaine, and it was a lie. Blaine could be gravely punished if his sin was ever discovered. Nobility, they were allowed to sleep with whoever. For those of lower class, sex outside of marriage was not only uncommon but greatly looked down upon. A woman in Westerville once divorced her husband when she discovered he had slept with somebody before they had married and kept it hidden from her. If that was the punishment a man received from his wife, Blaine does not even want to think of what his own punishment might be.

As a concubine, the law very clearly states that he belongs to the King and only the King. From the moment he agreed to be the King’s concubine he signed an unwritten agreement to be with the King and only the King. He had broken that agreement, in his mind, and with his body. Previous Kings have had unfaithful concubines put to death.

He arrives at the stables, and his heart lifts when he sees Kurt standing in the fields, holding Pepper and Daisy’s reins. Lady Fabray and Sir Evans are already atop their horses, but Kurt remains on the grass, head craned to better see the path.

Kurt waves as soon as he catches sight of Blaine, and suddenly his problems don’t seem as bad. He thinks he could deal with the King playing mind games with him forever if he could only see the Prince smile his way one more time.

That’s the most dangerous thing, he thinks, of all of this. That even knowing what he could face for being unfaithful to the King, he would risk it all in a second if Kurt showed even the faintest hint of attraction to him.

He’s in too deep. He knows that.

He still can't stop himself from speed walking the last little bit before he gets to Kurt. Just the sight of him is making him feel better, and although there is still a heaviness in his heart that he isn't sure will completely go away, at least it isn't as strong as it was yesterday.

“Hey,” Kurt greets. “I was worried you weren't coming.”

Blaine grins at takes the reins for Pepper from Kurt. “You couldn't keep me away if you tried.”

They continue smiling at each other, until Lady Fabray says, “Okay, let's get going. We’ve already wasted enough time waiting around.”

Kurt widens his eyes at Blaine and chuckles, then says, “Yeah, we’re coming,” and mounts Daisy. Blaine hurries to follow suit, saying a quick, “Sorry!” to Lady Fabray. She rolls her eyes but starts to lead them down the path to the clearing.

Kurt winks at Blaine, then follows her. Blaine hurries to follow as well, cheeks bright red and butterflies swarming his stomach.

Oh, he is definitely in too deep.

**

Watching Kurt train is a most welcome distraction from his troubles, and he drinks it all in with as much enthusiasm and interest as he had the first time.

When Kurt strips off his shirt he tosses it in Blaine’s direction. It falls directly on his face, and Blaine gets a good strong whiff of the vanilla and lilac scent that seems to follow Kurt everywhere. He tugs the shirt down and sees Kurt and Sir Evans chuckling, Lady Fabray rolling her eyes and shaking her head behind them.

A shirtless Kurt is even more of a distraction, and Blaine must look absolutely moony-eyes as he watches him fight, muscles shifting and rolling beautifully under his skin, glistening with sweat that Blaine just wants to lick off…

Lady Fabray flops onto the blanket beside him, her sword falling to the grass with a dull _thud_.

“Have you ever fought?” she asks. Blaine barely manages to tear his eyes away from the fight before him to look at her and shake his head.

“I was a baker,” he says, hoping that will explain it.

She shrugs. “So? You ride as well as any knight.”

“That's because Lady Hudson taught me.”

Lady Fabray nods. “Would you like to learn how to fight?”

Blaine's eyes widen. “I -” he looks over to where Kurt and Sir Evans are still sparring. “I don't know if that would be such a good idea. I'm not… I'm not a fighter. I'm a concubine.”

She shrugs again. “Suit yourself,” she lowers her voice and whispers, “I just figured you might want something more to do at these training sessions than sitting here and drooling all over yourself.”

Blaine blushes as she stands. So, his mooning had been obvious. Great. He's going to have to work on that.

“Just think about it,” she says, picking up her sword. “Maybe next time you can give _him_ something to drool over, huh?”

Blaine’s blush darkens and he looks at the blanket under him, hearing Lady Fabray chuckle to herself as she walks over to Kurt and Sir Evans, announcing she's had enough standing around and it's her turn to spar.

**

Once their finished training, they pack up as usual and Lady Fabray and Sir Evans take the lead, leaving Kurt and Blaine to chat amiably as they ride back to the stable.

The closer they get to the stables, though, the heavier Blaine's heart becomes. He isn't looking forward to going back to the concubine quarters and having to face the others, not after the embarrassment of the King deciding at the last moment that he didn't want him.

“Hey,” Kurt says, drawing Blaine's attention. “You okay?”

Blaine nods quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

Kurt doesn't look convinced. “You sure? You had a sort of far off look.”

Blaine forces a smile. “I was just thinking about the other night.”

“Oh,” this time it's Kurt's turn to blush. “I was going to talk to you about that. I'm sorry if I kept my father too long.”

Blaine frowns. “What?”

“Well, I knew he was meeting you since I heard him when we ran into him,” his cheeks are bright pink at this point and it is absolutely adorable. “But I wanted to talk to him about our friendship, you know, make sure he doesn't get the wrong idea. We ended up talking quite late into the night.”

Blaine's lips part and his eyebrows raise. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” the Prince gives him an apologetic look. “You weren't waiting too long, were you? I know he sent Mason to tell you he would be longer but…”

Blaine purses his lips and shakes his head. “Um. There must have been a miscommunication.”

Kurt frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I just -” Blaine looks down at the reins in his hands, frowning himself. “When I arrived at the King’s quarters Mason told me the King wouldn't be needing me after all.”

“Oh,” Kurt says. “Wow. Then I'm… I'm really sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” Blaine says, shaking his head. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, thinking, then gives Kurt a tight smile. “These things happen.”

“I… I suppose,” Kurt says. “But, Blaine, I don’t want to… I don’t want to come between you and my father. He is very fond of you, you know.”

 _He used to be,_ Blaine thinks, but thankfully manages not to say out loud.

“You won’t. Our friendship is… Well, you said it, it’s not a threat.”

“Exactly,” Kurt says, nodding enthusiastically. “It might even be a good thing, if he decides he wants you as his -” he stops himself, lips pressing together tightly. Blaine’s heart skips a beat.

“If he decides he wants me as his…?”

“Nothing,” Kurt says, eyes shut tightly, entire face scrunched up. “Nothing, nothing, I didn’t say anything.”

Blaine licks his lips nervously. “If you were going to say consort…”

“No, of course not,” Kurt shakes his head, far too exaggeratedly. “Why would I - no, that’s not what I was -”

“Because if you were, I just want to clarify that it wouldn’t be me.” He slows Pepper down to an easy trot and looks directly into Kurt’s eyes as the Prince slows Daisy down as well. “Even if he were looking for a consort, it wouldn’t be me.”

“Because you don’t want to be consort?” Kurt asks. “I know you said that before, but Blaine-”

“No,” Blaine shakes his head. “Not just because I don’t want to be consort. Because it won’t be me. That’s all there is to it.”

“But-”

“Kurt,” Blaine makes his face as serious as he can. “I’m not going to be married to your father. That’s it.”

Kurt stares at him, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, eyes wide and unsure. Finally, he nods. “Okay,” he says. “I won’t bring it up again.”

“Good,” Blaine says, nodding as well. He turns his eyes ahead, but he can still feel Kurt’s gaze on him.

What a strange conversation, he thinks. Trying to convince the man he is quite sure he is falling in love with that he will not be marrying said man’s father. Blaine wonders when exactly his life became so bizarre.

“Before I never bring this up again,” Kurt says, and Blaine turns to him, instantly bracing himself for the worst. “I just want to say that I think you’re selling yourself short. You told me once that you don’t want to be King because you don’t think you’re political enough, but you’re so kind and honest and respectful and caring that it wouldn’t even matter that you don’t know politics. You would learn. Besides, my father obviously adores you. I don’t think it’s as much of an impossibility as you think.”

Blaine can’t help but smile at Kurt’s kind words, misguided as they may be. “That’s nice of you to say,” he says. “Your father does not adore me, however. He hasn’t called on me in a month. The only time he has, he sent a message telling me to go home.”

“That was a miscommunication-”

“Regardless,” Blaine says, shaking his head. “He may have adored me once, but he doesn’t any longer. It’s alright. I’ve accepted it. I’m trying to come to terms with it. Please don’t make that any harder for me.”

Kurt purses his lips together, but still nods. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“Don’t be. You were only trying to help.”

Kurt shakes his head. “That doesn’t matter. I continued talking about it when you specifically asked me not to. I’m truly sorry, Blaine.”

“Well, in that case, you are forgiven.” Blaine smiles at Kurt, who hesitantly smiles back.

“Good.”

**

The next day around lunch finds Blaine pacing the common area in the concubine quarters, unbelievably nervous about his upcoming conversation with his brother.

The thing is, Blaine spent a large portion of his life resenting Cooper. Cooper was supposed to inherit the bakery, after all, and when he disappeared to the capital all of the responsibility fell on Blaine.

Cooper never wrote, either. He simply left and never looked back. Blaine still remembers overhearing his parents crying in their room, trying to console each other, insisting that one day Cooper _would_ come back. Obviously that day had never come.

Guilt climbs into Blaine’s throat as he thinks of his parents crying over him as well. Both of their sons, lost to the capital.

He hasn’t written them either.

He sits down, but quickly grows restless, so returns to pacing.

This was a terrible idea.

There is a knock on the glass door leading to the gardens, and Blaine looks over to see his brother standing on the other side, shivering slightly in the wind. Blaine waves him in, and Cooper pushes the door open, closing it shut behind him as soon as possible.

“It’s getting chilly out there,” he says.

“Yes, well, that’s what happens when summer becomes fall.”

Cooper nods, rubbing his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up. Blaine resists the urge to roll his eyes. He was out for a short walk earlier to relieve his nerves and while, yes, it was getting cooler, it was definitely not cold enough to warrant such dramatics.

Just Cooper being Cooper.

“The food hasn’t come yet so why don’t we…” Blaine gestures to the circle of couches, and Cooper follows him there, sitting next to him on one of the larger couches.

Blaine watches as he looks around, whistling under his breath. “This is… Wow, Blaine. You _live_ here?”

Blaine nods. “I do.”

“Wow. This is definitely much better than where they have me staying.”

“You live in the castle?”

Cooper nods. “Couldn’t make rent for my room in the capital, and god knows I cannot afford a horse. When I interviewed they asked if I would need lodgings and I said I did. I make less because of it, but…”

“I see,” Blaine says. “You know, if your money problems were really that severe, I’m sure mom and dad would have-”

Cooper shakes his head instantly. “No, Blaine. I can’t… they don’t have the money I would need to support myself in the capital. The only way they could help would be by allowing me to move back there with them and help with the bakery. I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Blaine asks, unable to keep the hard edge out of his voice. “If I could-”

He has to stop himself, because… would he? If he had the chance to move back into his parents home, would he take it? Would he be able to give up the eternally tidy room, the bed that is always made, the food brought to him on a daily basis? Would he be able to give up Rachel and Mercedes, Brittany and Elliott? The small chance that the King might once again show him favour?

Kurt?

Two months ago he would have said yes. In a heartbeat, yes. He would return to Westerville, take over the bakery, marry David. Yes, to everything.

Now… Well, now he’s not so sure.

“Look, Blaine, it’s more complicated than that,” Cooper says. “I didn't… I didn't come to talk about this. I came to catch up. To see what my baby brother has been up to.”

Blaine has to bite back the remark that he could have known what Blaine was up to for years if he'd sent them a damn letter.

He takes a deep breath and says, “I'm good. Adjusting to life here.”

“How long have you lived in the castle?”

Blaine has to think about it for a moment. “Six months now, I believe.”

Cooper whistles. “Wow.”

“Yeah, it's uh. It's been a ride.”

Their conversation flows rather easily, Blaine finds, as long as they don't talk about Cooper. He tells Cooper about how he came to be in the castle, how it was hard to adjust to the slower pace and the luxuries. Every time Cooper mentions something about his life in the capital or what lead to his becoming a gardener in the castle Blaine finds himself tensing up, growing frustrated at his brother for the choices he made.

Because that's the thing, isn't it? Cooper chose to leave. Cooper chose to come here and abandon their parents. Blaine didn't have a choice.

They talk less once the food arrives, only occasionally to mention the terrific taste of the stew.

Once their food is finished, Cooper clears his throat. “Look, Blaine,” he says. “I can tell that you're mad at me. I can see it in your eyes when I talk about, well, my life.”

Blaine doesn't try and correct him. He knows it's true.

“And I… I understand, I think. Why you're mad. But you're…” he takes a deep breath. “You're the only person I know here. The only person even remotely familiar to me. And honestly, I've missed you. I just… I want to get to know you again. I want us to be friends.”

Blaine purses his lips and nods. “You're right. I am mad. More on mom and dad's behalf than on my own,” the honest admission slips out, as they always seem to with him. He sighs. “I think I'd like to try being friends, though. You're right, you're the only thing familiar around here. It’ll… it'll be nice to have a reminder of home so close.”

“I'm so glad you think so,” Cooper says, smiling. “Let's try and do this once a week, okay? Lunch?”

“I'd like that,” Blaine replies with a smile of his own.

Cooper bids him goodbye after that, claiming he's been missing for too long and things are really swinging into motion with the Prince of Essex arriving in a week. Blaine says goodbye as well, going as far as giving Cooper and awkward hug.

He isn't sure how he feels as he watches Cooper disappear into the garden. On one hand he's excited to have his brother back. On the other, he's not sure he will be able to put his anger at his brother behind as easily as he implied.

With another sigh, Blaine goes to one of the shelves and picks out a new book, sits on one of the couches, and decides to distract himself by reading.

**

Blaine makes himself busy over the next several days. He knows that Mercedes and Rachel are far too deep in preparations for the Prince of Essex’s arrival to spend time with him, and he is sure that it’s the same for Kurt.

He finishes his new book, and begins another. He has lunch with Elliott and Brittany, and is taught by Brittany how to braid Emma’s hair, which apparently greatly relaxes her. At one point Sue brings out a chess board, and Blaine, who hasn’t played in many years, loses absolutely spectacularly to her.

He goes for several walks, but avoids the stables. He is likely to see Kurt there, and he does not want to distract him from his upcoming visit. Besides, he has to admit that he is feeling rather jealous of the fact that it is Kurt’s betrothed that is coming to visit. That, coupled with his frustration over what happened with the King, makes it so that Blaine is not as keen on seeing the Prince as he usually would be.

He spends quite some time thinking about what happened that night as well. He can’t help but wonder where exactly the miscommunication took place. Was it Mason who misunderstood what the King said, or was it Kurt who misunderstood what the King said to Mason? If it is the former, is the King angry at Blaine for not being in his chambers when he returned from his conversation with his son?

Sebastian is called upon two nights before the Prince of Essex is set to arrive, and this time it frustrates Blaine more than usual. Regardless of what miscommunication took place, he thinks it is only polite for the King to call upon him and apologize for that night. Maybe let Blaine give him an orgasm good enough to remember why Blaine was his favourite for so many months. But that part isn’t as important.

Sebastian is absolutely unbearable the day after. Blaine tries to ignore him, but Sebastian seems to be going out of his way to make sure that Blaine knows exactly where he was and exactly what he did the night before.

Blaine is trying not to be as intimidated by Sebastian, so he refuses to retreat to his room, but he also refuses to engage Sebastian in a conversation. He is already confused and frustrated enough without having to add Sebastian into the mix.

**

On the day the Prince of Essex arrives, Blaine is shaken awake by a servant girl he has never seen before and told to get dressed in some of his best clothes as quickly as possible.

He does so, then follows her out into the common room, where he finds the rest of the concubines, and even Bryan, dressed in their own best clothes. Blaine goes to Elliott to ask him what is happening.

“I’m assuming that we’re going out to meet the Prince of Essex,” Elliott says, fiddling with his cuffs, voice a little too neutral. “I wish they would have told us about this sooner. I would have showered last night.”

“Why?” Blaine asks.

“Well, because I like to make a good first impression.”

“No,” Blaine shakes his head, rolling his eyes at the smirk Elliott gives him. “Why do they want us to meet the Prince of Essex?”

Elliott shrugs. “We are relatively high ranking members of the court. I’m assuming any noblemen and noblewomen who happen to be in the castle at the moment will also be present, as well as the head chef, head gardener, head house servant. It’s just a courtesy. Shows that we care that the Prince is here.”

Blaine doesn’t care that the Prince is here, and he is quite sure that Elliott and Brittany feel exactly the same way. Still, he makes sure that his clothes look nice, then follows the servant girl out the main doors and through the halls until they reach the main entrance.

As Elliott predicted, most of the court is standing in front of the stairs leading to the entrance, everybody in a long line from most to least important. The servant girl leads them near the end of the line; before all the present servants, but after the nobles and knights.

Lady Hudson catches his eye and sends him a wink. He waves back shyly. Lady Fabray notices the motion and waves to him as well. He waves to her this time, blushing a little. Sometimes it is still so hard for him to believe that he is in close proximity to such important and powerful people.

Kurt is, of course, right at the front of the line, next to his father. Blaine leans forward briefly to try and catch a glimpse of him, but finds he is unable to without stepping too far out of formation.

They stand in silence, perfectly still, for what must be a good twenty minutes before finally the carriages begin to arrive.

There are far more than Blaine expected, and so many people exit them that he quickly loses track of what is happening. He looks around anxiously, trying to figure out which of the men might be the Prince, but finds that most of them are running about far too frantically to be the royal.

The carriages are unloaded and servants seem to appear out of every corner to begin taking them into the castle. Once a carriage is completely unloaded, it continues it’s way down the path that Blaine knows leads to the guests stables, where the carriages will be stored for the duration of the visit and the horses will be well taken care of.

Finally the last carriage arrives, and one of the men who was previously running around like a madman hurries to the door to open in. Blaine takes in a deep breath, knowing that the man inside this carriage must be the Prince.

He is… Blaine doesn’t want to say short, as he is not exactly the tallest man himself, but he is most definitely shorter than Blaine imagined. Not that he spent much time imagining the Prince of Essex but, well, if he had, he is quite sure he would have pictured him taller.

Regardless of height, he is a fit man who instantly commands respect. He nods his thank you to the valet, then makes his way to the front of the long line of people.

“King Burt,” he greets, bowing.

“Prince Adam,” the King returns. Blaine can barely hear them, he’s so far down the line, but he leans forward a little to try and get a better look.

He sees the Prince move slightly to the left until he is standing before Kurt. His face loses its severity and professionalism and becomes fond. He holds out a hand, which Kurt takes, and the Prince of Essex brings said hand up to his lips.

Blaine wants to gag. How incredibly corny.

“My Prince,” the Prince of Essex says, and Blaine wants to scoff.

“My Prince,” Kurt replies, and Blaine falls back into his place, not wanting to see any more of it. He glances at Brittany, who is standing next to him, and notices that she has a sour look on her face as well.

She, of course, has more reason to have it than Blaine does, but that doesn’t take away from Blaine instantly hating the Prince of Essex and his smarmy seduction tactics. He bets Kurt didn’t even like having his hand kissed like that.

The King, Kurt, and the Prince of Essex begin moving down the line of people, the King taking the time to introduce everybody to the Prince.

Blaine grows restless relatively soon, and it only worsens as the King approaches him. By the time he reaches Sue Blaine is struggling to remain standing straight, shifting his weight on his feet as many times as he feels he can get away with it.

He forces himself to behave when the royal party reaches him. The King gives him a fond smile, one that Blaine didn't expect to see. Blaine bows to him, and the King nods his head in recognition.

“May I introduce Blaine of Westerville, concubine to the King.”

The Prince looks Blaine over, and Blaine hurries to bow despite wanting to do anything but.

“Your Highness,” he murmurs. He straightens himself slowly, eyes briefly flashing to Kurt, who looks about as uncomfortable as Blaine feels.

The Prince gives him another look over, then smirks at the King and says, “I understand why he's your favourite.”

Blaine can feel Sebastian bristle beside him, and Blaine's cheeks colour instantly. He glances once more to Kurt, finding him looking away, and then glances to the King, who is shaking his head.

He steps toward Brittany and introduces her, leaving Blaine's heart racing wildly. He keeps his eyes ahead of him, entirely aware of the glare directed his way from Sebastian.

After several agonizing moments, Blaine's legs feel restless again, so he shifts on his feet again. He glances further down the line, where the King is introducing the Prince to Shelby. His eyes go to Kurt, cheeks still blazing, and his eyes widen when he finds Kurt staring at him as well.

Kurt presses his lips together and looks away. Blaine ducks his head, embarrassed.

“Gag me,” Sebastian murmurs, and Blaine has to force himself not to look toward him.

Every moment spent standing in the line from that moment forward becomes agony, and Blaine finds himself desperately wishing it would all be over as soon as possible.

**

It isn't long after they have returned to the concubine quarters that Sebastian grabs Blaine by the arm and pulls him into a corner of the room.

He pins him to the wall, his arms bracketing Blaine's head. “What the hell do you think you're playing at?”

“Excuse me?” Blaine asks, eyes wide.

“Your little heart eyes to the Prince?” Sebastian leans in close. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Blaine tries.

“Please,” Sebastian spits. “I told you, I see right through you. I knew there was something up with your little innocent act, and now I know it's all bullshit. Good luck still being the King’s favourite after I let it slip that you're having an affair with the Prince.”

“What?!” Blaine shouts. “I'm not! I swear I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“You can put the doe eyes away. You're not fooling me.”

“Okay,” Brittany comes up to them and puts her arms around Sebastian, moving him far enough away that Blaine can slip out from under his hold. “Let's not throw out outlandish accusations.”

“They're not - Just because you're all too blind to see it -”

“You're just angry because even the Prince of Essex knows Blaine is the favourite,” Sue chimes in from where she's lounging on a couch. “Get over it. Move on.”

Sebastian glares at her, then glares at Blaine. “Don't think this is over.”

He shoves himself away from Brittany and stalks to his room, leaving Brittany shaking her head and Blaine just shaken.

He cannot believe that he’s been so foolish to believe he could hide his infatuation with Kurt. It took Sebastian less than a minute in their shared presence to realize. The King probably knows as well, having spent a longer period of time with both of them.

He tries to hide how much the confrontation has disturbed him, smiling his thanks to Brittany and going to the couch where Sue is sitting, curling up in such a way that his feet are tucked under her thighs. She pats him on the shoulder and Blaine smiles at her as well.

It’ll be fine. As long as he never lets on that Sebastian is right (well, at least in regards to Blaine’s feelings) it’ll all be fine.

**

Hours pass and Blaine is growing hungry for dinner. He’s long since changed out of his nice clothes and is now lounging on a couch, book in his lap, dressed in some of his comfiest clothes from his days as a baker.

He is about to ask somebody if they know the time, becoming hungrier by the moment, when the front doors open wide and Mason steps forward.

“King Burt of Lima,” he says, all business, then steps aside to let the King through.

Blaine stands immediately, lips parting in surprise. In all of his time at the castle he has never seen the King come down to the concubine quarters. The concubines are always brought to him, or sent messages to come.

“Good, you’re here,” the King says, approaching him.

Blaine points to himself. “Me?” The King came all the way down here for _him_?

“Of course you,” the King smiles at Blaine and, as soon as he reaches him, reaches a hand out to pull at one of Blaine’s curls. “Get dressed. Wear the teal jacket and the beige pants. Accompany them with the black high boots. I know you despise them, but they will look absolutely wonderful together,” he scrunches up his nose. “Or so my son tells me.”

“Yes, of course Your Majesty,” Blaine says, bowing. He stands up and cautiously says, “If I may ask: why?”

The King smiles again. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Blaine shakes his head.

The King chuckles. “I want you to join me for dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/146432278825/one-of-five-913)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday everybody! Have another longer chapter ;) this one actually includes one of my favourite scenes to write from the whole series, so I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! as always, please keep [the warnings for this fic ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost)in mind!

It takes Blaine longer than it should to change into his nice clothes and wash up for dinner, mainly because he keeps having to pause and try to calm his pounding heart.

He’s actually going to be with the King tonight. They’re going to have dinner, and they’re going to sleep together, and Blaine is going to get the chance to prove to the King that he is worthy of being called upon regularly again.

He hopes he hasn’t become rusty in the art of love making during his month of inactivity. He hasn’t even pleasured himself much lately, the only two times being when he thought of Kurt.

That doesn’t matter now. The King wants Blaine to have dinner with him. The King came all the way to the concubine quarters to ask Blaine to accompany him to dinner. Blaine is absolutely on cloud nine.

He glances at himself in the mirror, hands going to his cheeks. He's still relatively smooth from his morning shave, and will most likely make it through dinner without sprouting a beard.

Deeming himself acceptable, he takes one final deep breath and heads back to the common room, heart racing and palms sweating.

Sebastian is leaning against the wall next to the door, and he steps behind Blaine as soon as Blaine is in the common room. He puts his hands on Blaine’s shoulders and guides him toward the King, as though Blaine doesn’t know where to go.

“What are you-?”

“Hey,” Sebastian leans in close to his ear, hands bearing down on Blaine’s shoulders tightly. It takes everything Blaine has not to grimace at the pain. “Make sure you keep your eyes to yourself tonight, huh? Wouldn’t want good ol’ Burt here getting suspicious.”

Blaine frowns and turns his head slightly, bringing him far closer to Sebastian’s face than he would like to be. “What are you talking about?”

“Have fun,” is all Sebastian replies, pinching his shoulders one more time before scurrying away, leaving Blaine standing in front of the King alone.

The King looks him over, his lips parted and his pupils wide. Blaine licks his lips, heart racing as he recognizes the signs of lust in the King’s eyes. The King glances briefly to where Sebastian ran off to, but immediately looks back at Blaine.

“You look stunning,” he says. He leans in and kisses Blaine on the lips, the first time he’s been kissed in a month. He has to admit, he missed it.

The King offers him his arm, and Blaine loops his through it happily.

As they walk out, Blaine catches Sebastian’s eye and glares. Sebastian just smirks and wiggles his fingers at him. Blaine shakes his head and ignores the other man. Sebastian is just jealous because the King has never come down to the concubine quarters to get him.

He knows it’s childish, but he can’t help but feel proud as he walks out of the concubine quarters on the King’s arm, and when he glances back to see Sebastian still smirking at him, he ever so casually raises the arm not linked with the King’s, his hand forming a fist that is broken merely by his middle finger, which he points directly at Sebastian.

**

They walk down the halls in silence, Blaine unsure as to how to start a conversation with this man. All that is running through his head is _ask him if Mason misheard him or if Kurt misheard him_ , but he knows that’s not something to bring up right away on a night like this. Perhaps later, when they are lying sated in bed and some of his inhibitions are gone.

Blaine finally finds his conversation starter when the King turns left into the hallway Blaine knows leads to the kitchen instead of continuing straight, which Blaine also knows is the way to the King’s chambers.

“I thought we were going to have dinner,” Blaine says, his free hand coming to touch the King’s arm.

“We are,” the King says, smiling down at Blaine. “The dining room is this way.”

“The-” Blaine’s heart skips a beat. “I thought you meant just the two of us.”

The King chuckles. “As much as I would absolutely adore that, it is the Prince of Essex’s first night here. It would be astoundingly rude of me not to join him and the rest of my noble guests for dinner.”

“Right. Of course,” Blaine nods, feeling incredibly foolish. “But then, why did you invite me along?”

The King shrugs. “I wanted to show you off.”

Blaine bites his tongue to stop the sharp, “Not Sebastian?” from leaving his lips. Instead he smiles up at the King and says, “You sure know how to flatter a man.”

 _It would have been a lot more flattering if you’d called on me more than once in the past month, and if you’d actually bothered to show up the one time you did_.

Blaine chides himself and his thoughts. Best not think of that now. He is going to be having dinner with the King, the Prince of Essex, the nobles.

With Kurt.

Sebastian’s warning makes far more sense now.

It isn’t long before they arrive at a set of large wooden doors, so elaborate they rival the doors to the King’s chambers. Blaine has only passed them twice, usually going to the kitchens through the servant halls, but each time he has wondered what is behind them. A pair of servants open the doors for them, both averting their eyes as Blaine and the King walk through.

They are the last to arrive, and everybody stands as they enter the room. Blaine’s eyes instantly go to Kurt, who is standing at the end of the table, occupying one of the three seats there. Blaine blushes at the thought of sitting across from Kurt for all of dinner, as he knows that the King will take the seat at the very end of the table.

The King leads Blaine there, and even pulls his chair out for him. Blaine thanks him softly and bows his head as he sits, which in turn causes everybody else to take their seats as well.

Blaine glances across the table at Kurt and finds the man already looking his way. Kurt smiles, and Blaine ducks his head, feeling the tips of his ears heat up.

“I did not realize we would have another guest for dinner,” one of the nobles says, a woman with flowing blonde hair and positively glowing green eyes. “Your Majesty, please introduce us to your lovely companion.”

“Of course, Lady July,” the King says, taking his own seat at the end of the table, exactly as Blaine thought. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Blaine. He is one of my concubines.”

Blaine smiles at everybody, making sure to make eye contact with everybody around the table and bow his head lightly to them as he does. They bow their heads as well, which makes Blaine flush all the way down to his neck.

Finally he meets the eyes of the Prince of Essex, a green much darker than those of Lady July. He bows his head for a moment longer than he did for the rest. When he raises his head, he cannot tell if the Prince returned the gesture, as the man simply has a smile on his face that is dangerously close to a smirk.

Unnerved, he looks to Kurt and bows his head as well. Kurt, thankfully, returns the favour, his head lifting at the same time that Blaine’s does. He sees Kurt’s eyes flicker to the Prince of Essex, and Blaine’s go to the man as well. He finds him still smirking, his eyes still on Blaine. Blaine looks away quickly, eyes instead going to the King.

“I hope you will all make him feel welcome. Blaine is… very special to me.”

 _I understand why he's your favourite._ Blaine’s blush darkens.

“Anybody special to His Majesty is special to us,” another noble proclaims, and Blaine can’t help but smile to himself.

The first course is announced moments later, and soon the food is being filed out of the kitchen. Blaine watches in awe as the servants place excessive quantities of a delicious looking soup on the table. He knows that this meal has been almost two weeks in the making, and he hopes he will have the opportunity to commend Shelby on a job well done soon enough. The soup looks absolutely fantastic, and he knows it will taste just as good as it looks.

Servants flit around the room, some placing bread for dipping on the few available surfaces of the table, and others carrying jugs of wine and offering to pour some for the guests. Blaine thanks the servant kindly when his cup is full, but does not drink yet. He is unsure as to whether or not he is allowed to eat or drink before the King has made an announcement.

Thankfully the King does, in fact, make an announcement moments later, telling everybody to enjoy the meal. Blaine glances around the table and sees the servants gather near the large bowls of soup and begin to serve some to the nobles.

A servant offers Blaine a very generous portion, and Blaine smiles as he accepts it, feeling the warmth of the soup through his bowl as the servant serves it. He attempts to keep eye contact with the servant, but the young woman keeps her eyes on the soup ladle and Blaine’s bowl.

Conversation begins to flow easily around him, quite similar to how it flows around the dinner table in the concubine quarters. The Prince of Essex immediately engages Kurt and the King in a conversation, and Blaine tries to avoid listening in to what is being said, feeling vaguely like the Prince may not believe he should be here.

“So, Blaine is it?” the noble beside him asks, and Blaine turns to him, smiling and nodding to assure him he has the correct name. “My name is Duke Jesse St. James, of Carmel.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Duke St. James,” Blaine says.

“It certainly is,” the Duke says, eyes roaming over Blaine’s face. “Tell me Blaine, how long have you lived in the castle? I spend quite a lot of my time here, and I have not yet seen you around.”

“I have been here for a little longer than six months,” Blaine says. “I… I keep to myself. That is probably why you have not seen me.”

“I see,” the Duke says. “If I may ask, how do you keep yourself busy? I do not know much of the lives of concubines, especially of those who keep to themselves.”

Blaine wonders how the Duke’s own concubines (as a Duke, Blaine assumes he must have at least three) feel about this fact. “I spend a lot of time in the gardens,” Blaine says. “I find them to be absolutely beautiful.”

“They are indeed,” the Duke says. “Absolutely stunning. I have travelled to many kingdoms and of all the castles I have stayed in, I think this one has the most lovely garden.”

“It does not surprise me,” Blaine says, smiling. “They are so well maintained. I particularly like going for walks at dusk. As the sun lowers it bathes everything in a lovely pink glow. It was especially beautiful over the summer months. I do admit I spent far more time outdoors during those months than I did indoors.”

“A wise choice,” the Duke says. “Lima in the summer is beautiful.” He brings a spoonful of soup up to his mouth, blowing on it briefly before tipping it into his mouth.  Blaine takes the opportunity to begin eating his soup as well. It is as amazing as he predicted it would be.

“What else do you occupy your time with?” the Duke asks, lowering his spoon back to his bowl. “Surely you don’t merely wander the gardens.”

Blaine shakes his head. “Of course not. I am also an avid reader, and have been training to ride as well.”

Duke St. James nods his approval. “Those are all quite noble hobbies,” he says, the corner of his lips turning up and his lips sparkling in amusement. “Typical to those of a consort.”

Blaine, who had made the mistake of lifting his cup of wine to his lips at that exact moment, sputters and ends up spitting part of the wine in his mouth into Kurt’s bowl.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he hurries to say, taking the napkin next to his plate on instinct, though what he plans to do with it he does not know, and standing to lean over the table. “I’m so, so sorry Ku- Your Highness,” he blushes at his near slip, eyes briefly sliding up to meet Kurt’s. Kurt’s eyes are wide, his lips parted in shock.

“Blaine, stop,” the King says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Do not worry, the servants will clean it.”

“I ruined his food,” Blaine explains, his own wide eyes turning to the King.

The King smiles kindly and shakes his head. “I’m sure it will be quite alright,” there is already a servant directly behind the Prince, taking Kurt’s bowl away. Another one appears in its place almost immediately.

“Duke St. James,” the King says, turning to Blaine’s conversation partner. “What on earth did you say that startled Blaine in such a severe manner?”

“Me?” the Duke smiles innocently. “Why, I merely pointed out that his favourite hobbies - gardening, reading, and riding - are quite noble and very typical of a King or Queen’s consort.”

Everybody around the table begins to nod and talk about how that is very true amongst each other. Blaine looks down at his lap, his cheeks absolutely blazing.

“They are indeed,” the King replies after several moments of silence. “However it seems as though they are also the hobbies of a concubine, aren’t they Blaine?”

Blaine looks up at him, thankful, and nods. “Yes, they… I quite enjoy them.”

“There you have it,” the King says. The Duke nods, but still seems amused by the situation. Blaine glances up at Kurt and finds him looking down at his new bowl of soup, a strange look falling over his face.

“I’m sure Duke St. James was only teasing,” Lady July calls out from several seats down. “Weren’t you, Duke?”

“Of course,” the Duke says easily. “I merely wanted to see a blush on those beautiful cheeks. You sure know how to steal the most attractive ones away from the rest of us, Your Majesty.”

Blaine is shocked at the statement, and his eyes widen as he looks to the King to gauge his response. He is surprised to find him chuckling and shaking his head in amusement.

“You’re damn right I do,” the King says, causing laughter to erupt around the table. Blaine manages a couple of chuckles himself, though they die as soon as his eyes find themselves on Kurt yet again and see the very serious, almost angry look in his eyes. The look is directed at his father, who does not seem to notice, but soon turns to Blaine. His eyes soften immediately when they land on Blaine’s, but Blaine doesn’t think he will easily forget the look that overtook Kurt’s face moments earlier.

Perhaps…

No. He won’t think of it. He refuses to travel down that path of thought. Especially not here, with the King sitting beside him, and Kurt’s betrothed so close.

Said betrothed turns to Blaine and says, “You like reading then?”

Blaine nods. “I do, very much.”

“What books?”

Blaine cannot help but feel as though this is some form of trap. The man had seemed incredibly amused at Blaine’s mere presence, both earlier in the day and earlier this evening. Then suddenly he is interested in Blaine’s hobbies?

Blaine shrugs. “All kinds. Lately I’ve been reading a lot of history books, mainly about Lima but several about surrounding kingdoms. I actually finished one about Essex not long ago.”

The Prince nods and says, “Very interesting,” though his tone does not seem interested at all.

“History, you say?” Kurt interjects, and Blaine turns to him, thankful to end the conversation with the Prince. “Are you interested in historical fiction, or do you prefer to read non-fiction?”

“Both are of interest to me. I have yet to meet a genre of book that I did not enjoy.”

“I only ask because I have just finished reading the most interesting piece of historical fiction,” Kurt continues, bringing a spoonful of soup to his mouth. He sips it carefully before continuing. “It centers around a young concubine and the life he lives in the palace. It is set around three hundred years ago.”

“That sounds quite interesting,” Blaine says. “What is the title?”

“ _The Life Ahead_ ,” Kurt says. “I… I could lend it to you, if you would like. Unless you are currently engrossed in another novel?”

Blaine shakes his head, lips parting in surprise. “I just finished one,” he admits. “I would be honoured if you would lend me a book you enjoyed.”

The Prince of Essex snorts, and Kurt turns to him. “Is something wrong, dearest?”

Blaine looks down at his plate, cheeks flushing at the endearment. The Prince of Essex clears his throat and says, “No, of course not. I just… I’ve read that book as well, is all. I did not enjoy it as much as you seemed to.”

Blaine glances up to see the Prince of Essex giving Kurt a look that almost seems challenging. Kurt nods and says, “Well, perhaps Blaine’s taste in literature will be more similar to my own than to yours.”

The Prince of Essex brings his cup of wine to his lips, a smirk annoyingly reminiscent of Sebastian’s taking over his face. “One can only hope.”

**

The rest of dinner is… odd.

Blaine has to catch himself every time he finds his eyes going to Kurt, knowing that it is normal to look at the person across from you from time to time, but that the amount of times he is doing so is far too obviously high, even to strangers.

The Prince of Essex seems to spend most of the dinner attempting to engage both Kurt and the King in a conversation at once, but often failing to do so, losing either man quite soon into whatever topic he has recently brought up. Blaine can tell that he is being very careful not to be too political in his conversations, most likely because of Blaine’s presence at the table, and in a strange way Blaine almost appreciates it. After the early mention of him enjoying the same hobbies as consorts usually do, he does not want to spark any possible rumours.

He mainly converses with Duke St. James who tells him all about Carmel, a town built entirely upon his own land. Every now and then the man sitting next to Duke St. James, a Marquess named Brody Weston from some land that Blaine cannot pronounce, joins the conversation. Blaine has to admit that he enjoys speaking with Duke St. James far more than he enjoys his brief interactions with Marquess Weston.

By the time the dessert plates are being cleaned up, Blaine has a strange feeling of unease. He knows that he has spent too much time sneaking glances at Kurt, many glances which have been returned. He also knows that he wishes he could have interacted more with the King, but the Prince of Essex kept the man in a very tight hold, conversation-wise.

Overall, Blaine is incredibly happy when people begin to stand from their places and excuse themselves. He, of course, being the King’s concubine, must wait until everybody is gone, but he feels more at ease with every noble who leaves the table.

Finally it is only the King, Kurt, the Prince of Essex, and himself. The King stands and says, “Prince Adam, I know that it is late, but I do believe there are a few small matters that we need to discuss that simply cannot wait until tomorrow.”

The Prince stands up as well and nods. “I could not agree more,” he turns to Kurt and says, “Will you be joining us in these matters?”

Kurt shakes his head, eyes going briefly to Blaine. “No, I believe I will be more useful to your conversations tomorrow after I have had a good night’s rest.”

“Of course. Would you like me to walk you to your room? I can meet King Burt back in the throne room afterward.”

“No,” Kurt shakes his head again. “No, you two go now. I don’t want you getting lost on your way back.”

The Prince nods, then turns to the King. “Shall we go?”

The King nods as well, then turns to Blaine. “Would you like me to escort you back to the concubine quarters, Blaine? The Prince and I could walk with you.”

Blaine feels his heart sink immediately.

The King doesn’t want to sleep with him.

Again.

“Uh. No. No, I’ll be fine. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The Prince coos. “How polite.”

Kurt elbows him, but that doesn’t seem to do anything to deter the smirk on the Prince’s face.

“Speaking of polite,” the King says. “Let us go discuss. I do not think the throne room will be the correct place at this time of night, but I do know a small meeting room that will be quiet.”

Blaine walks slightly behind everybody else, feeling far more discouraged than he has in quite some time.

The King just brought him out to brag. He wanted to show his nobles and his future son-in-law what a young, beautiful concubine he had acquired. He still didn’t want Blaine. Honestly, Blaine wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the King had actually sent for Sebastian to meet him after dinner.

They reach the doors of the dining room, and Blaine is about to say his goodnights when the King leans down and whispers in his ear, “I’m sorry that I am unavailable tonight, but I will call upon you soon. I promise.”

Blaine nods, standing in the doorway to the dining room, slightly more optimistic than he was moments before.The King gives him a kiss on the cheek, murmurs, “Goodnight, Blaine,” into his ear.

Blaine watches him and the Prince of Essex go, caught between the feelings of disappointment and optimism churning in his stomach. Part of him doesn't want to trust the King after what happened last time, but at the same time it was only once. It wasn't a long string of cancelled evenings.

His thoughts whirr. Next to him, Kurt clears his throat and says, “If you would like, I have that book I mentioned in my room.”

Blaine turns to him, sees his cheeks have flushed a light shade of pink. Blaine smiles. It's always nice when it's somebody else blushing for a change.

“Yes, thank you. Would you like me to wait here while you get it?”

Kurt shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. “Of course not, silly. You can walk with me.”

“Oh.”

“It's not far,” Kurt says, beginning to walk further down the hall, past the door Blaine knows leads to the kitchen. He hasn't gone further down this hall before. “In the olden times the Royals lived high up in the towers of the castle, but my grandfather decided that was silly. He moved the royal chambers closer to the kitchen and the concubine quarters. I'm quite sure it has more to do with his not wanting to climb up and down all those stairs every day, but he says it was to bring himself and his children closer to the other inhabitants of the castle.”

“Would you prefer to be up in the towers?”

Kurt snorts and shakes his head. “Hell no,” he says. “While the cardio would do amazing things for my physique…” he pats his trim stomach, and Blaine has to force himself to look away. “No, I wouldn't want to live way up there, separated from everybody. If my father had moved us back up there I would have moved myself and my family back down when I became King.”

They turn a corner, and Blaine makes a note of their direction (right), and their surroundings (a tall blue and black vase, a portrait of King Salazar, Kurt’s great-great-great grandfather). Just in case he ever has to come down this way again.

Blaine doesn't know what to say in response, so he just smiles at Kurt then looks ahead. They turn left at a portrait of Queen Adelaide, an ancient queen who reigned centuries ago. Blaine makes another mental note of it.

Two more turns later and they are at Kurt’s chambers. The double doors as large and elaborate, similar to the King’s, and have a guard flanking each one.

“This is Blaine,” Kurt says to the guards. “He is here to borrow a book.”

Blaine glances at Kurt confused, but the guards just smirk at each other and nod at Kurt. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Kurt rolls his eyes as they open the doors and murmurs a quiet, “Ignore them,” to Blaine.

Kurt’s sitting room is not as large as the King’s, definitely not as large as the one in the concubine quarters, but it is still incredibly grand. Dozens of bookshelves line the walls, and potted plants lay under a large window, which shows a view of an area of the gardens that Blaine is surprised he has never seen before. He goes there immediately, lips parting at the beauty of the garden in the night.

“Where is this?” he asks, gesturing to the window. He turns and sees Kurt looking over one of his bookshelves.

“Sorry?” Kurt asks, turning to him. His profile is so lovely, perfectly defined, lips so plush and pink.

Blaine has to look away. He points to the window again. “The gardens here. Where are they? I've never walked them.”

Kurt seems to materialize beside him. “We’re on the side of the castle. Do you usually walk forward when you go into the gardens?” Blaine nods. “Then you will have not walked this area of the garden. If you wish to, next time you walk in the gardens turn left instead of forward.”

It seems unbelievable that there could still be parts of the gardens that Blaine has not explored. He feels as though he has still not seen all of the back gardens. He should have known there would be more, though. After all, he remembers seeing beautiful gardens in front of the castle as he rode in, but he has not set foot on them yet. It only makes sense that the back gardens and the front gardens would be connected by more garden.

“I might do that,” Blaine says.

“If you can tear yourself away from this book, of course,” Kurt says, holding the book up. Blaine looks down at it. Kurt’s pale fingers offer a stark contrast to the blood red cover. Blaine lifts his hand to take the book, fingertips brushing Kurt’s as he does.

He looks up from the book and finds Kurt staring at him intently. Blaine swallows thickly, but cannot pull his gaze away from Kurt’s.

The weight of the book is suddenly entirely in his hand, Kurt’s fingers no longer wrapped around it’s spine, but reaching forward toward Blaine’s face. Blaine’s heart speeds up the closer they get, and he’s quite sure that his heart skips a beat when they make contact with the skin of his jaw.

“Oh,” Kurt says. “I thought… I thought you had something on your face.”

His fingers caress Blaine’s jaw gently, and Blaine’s eyes close, face tilting closer to the touch.

“It’s just your stubble though,” Kurt continues, voice quieter now. Blaine sighs happily as Kurt’s thumb rubs up and down his cheek, his fingertips gentle on the curve of Blaine’s jaw. “I didn’t realize it grew back so fast.”

Blaine’s eyes flutter open. “I haven’t shaved since this morning,” he admits quietly.

Their gazes hold each other's steadily. Kurt’s hand is so warm on Blaine’s face, and he wants to lean into it more, to move closer. He wants more. Wants that hand to run down his neck, down his chest, to touch him intimately. He wants Kurt’s other hand to join its twin on Blaine’s face, cupping his jaw. He wants Kurt to pull him in for a kiss that lasts for the rest of their lives.

For a moment, he thinks it might happen. Kurt’s eyes move from Blaine’s eyes down to his lips. Blaine’s tongue darts out to wet them.

This shouldn’t happen, he knows. He’s playing with fire, more than he has in the past. Here, alone in Kurt’s room, Kurt’s hand still caressing his cheek…

If it did happen, he would be powerless to stop it. His emotions are too high, everything is so charged. It feels as though electricity is sparking between himself and Kurt, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can stand before he fucks it all and just kissed the Prince himself.

Kurt’s gaze lingers on Blaine’s lips for a moment longer. Then, in an action that practically breaks Blaine’s heart, he drops his hand from Blaine’s face and takes a step back.

“I should let you go,” Kurt says quietly. “We… we both need to get some rest.”

Blaine nods. He looks down at the book in his hand. “Thank you,” he says, glancing up at Kurt. He notices that Kurt’s cheeks have darkened, and he quickly looks away. He wishes he hadn’t noticed that.

“You’re welcome,” Kurt replies, voice crisp. “Keep it as long as you like. You can return it directly to me, or just bring it here and give it to one of my guards. They will give it to me the next time I see them.”

Blaine nods again. “I should go,” he says, not waiting for the awkward silence that he knows will soon ensue.

“Of course,” Kurt says. He walks to the door, and Blaine follows him, eyes watching the Prince carefully. His walk is stiff, shoulders more set than usual. His cheeks are still pink, but his eyes are guarded.

Kurt opens the door for him, and Blaine steps out quickly. He bows, and says, “Goodnight, Your Highness. And thank you again.”

He straightens and sees Kurt bowing his head. “You’re welcome, Blaine.”

Kurt’s head lifts and they hold each other’s gaze for several seconds. Kurt finally breaks it, smiling tightly, then turning back into his quarters and disappearing into what Blaine can only assume is his bedroom.

Blaine watches him until he has disappeared completely, then turns on his heel and walks away, though not before wishing Kurt’s guard goodnight.

He clutches the book tightly as he walks, heart racing.

He’s always known he shouldn’t spend as much time as he does with Kurt. Not with his feelings for him being what they are. Still, he never seriously considered that he would be in any real danger because the thought of Kurt returning his feelings was absolutely and utterly unthinkable. Perhaps for a moment after the procession so many months ago he thought that maybe… but no. Kurt had not wanted him then, so why would he want him now?

Now, he is not so sure of Kurt’s feelings. They always seemed entirely platonic, if not slightly inappropriate due to Blaine’s relationship with Kurt’s father. He’s never given Blaine any indication that he might feel more than friendship for him.

Tonight, though… Tonight Blaine is unsure, and that is more dangerous than any other feeling he has had because of Kurt. Because if there is even the slightest chance that Kurt may like Blaine as well, may love him the way Blaine is growing to love Kurt…

If that is the case than Blaine is in even more trouble than he ever anticipated or considered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/146578265120/one-of-five-1013)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here’s the deal. This is the chapter before the big, trigger heavy chapter. Because of that, I have updated [the warnings for this fic](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost). That being said, those warnings contain a MAJOR SPOILER for the next chapter and what will happen in that chapter, as well as a MAJOR SPOILER about the end of this chapter. So, I would suggest you read this chapter as you usually would, and if you reach the end of the chapter and are worried about the next chapter and how you will feel about it (I suspect it will be more squicky than actually triggering for most people, but I want everybody to stay safe regardless) then go to the warnings and scroll to the very bottom of the page. Again, it includes a MAJOR SPOILER about the next chapter, so if you don’t like being spoiled, steer clear of the warnings masterpost until Monday, after chapter 12 has been posted.
> 
> I usually advise you to keep the warnings for this fic in mind, but for this particular chapter I would rather you stay away from the warnings, for spoiler reasons :P I promise nothing triggering or too squicky happens in this chapter (though you might get a little mad at Kurt, but if you’ve read the warnings before you may have expected that this would be coming). Hope you all enjoy :)

As soon as breakfast is finished, Blaine dives into the novel Kurt lent him. He’d wanted to do so the night before, but worried he was too wound up to properly enjoy it.

He reads the first chapter quickly, already deeply invested in the book and its protagonist, a young man named James with a story terribly similar to Blaine’s. His parents owned a flower shop rather than a bakery, and there was no strange interaction with a Prince or Princess at a procession, but still. It feels good to read a story about somebody like him, a story where somebody he can relate to is the protagonist and not a side character or, as he’s read several times, a villain.

In James’ story, the Queen arrives with her maid servant to purchase flowers for the room of the inn she is staying at, which she finds drab. She is immediately infatuated with James and begs him to join her for a night. Like Blaine did, James assumes that it will only be one night. The first chapter ends there, but Blaine knows what will happen next. After all, he’s lived it.

He eagerly turns to chapter two, but is interrupted before he can begin when Brittany drops her head onto his shoulder and asks, “Whatcha reading?”

Blaine jumps a little in surprise, but recovers easily. He holds the book up for Brittany to better see. “It’s called _The Life Ahead_. It’s about a concubine.”

Brittany reaches forward and picks up the book, closing it without a thought to saving Blaine’s page, and strokes the cover. “It’s beautiful,” she says, awed. “Where did you get it? I’ve never seen it in our library before.”

“Kurt lent it to me,” Blaine admits.

Brittany smiles down at the book. “How kind of him,” she says. “He lent me a book once, but I lost it, so now if he reads a book he thinks I’d like he invites me over and we read it together.” She smiles at Blaine this time and hands the book back. “Sorry, I lost your spot.”

“It’s alright,” Blaine says, taking the book back and opening it, flipping the pages until he reaches chapter two.

Brittany stands up straight and goes to leave. Blaine notices the dress she’s wearing, intricate and beautifully beaded. He says, “You look lovely, Brittany.”

She turns to him with a huge grin on her face. “Do you think so?” she asks, holding out her skirt to give Blaine a better look. “It’s my absolute favourite. Do you think Santana will like it?”

Blaine frowns. “Santana?”

“Oh, sorry. Lady Lopez,” she bites her lip and looks down at her skirt. “She is one of Kurt’s closest friends, and she is arriving at the castle soon. Kurt agreed to let me greet her along with him, since she seemed particularly fond of me last time.” Her cheeks flush red as she says it.

“We do not all have to go?” Blaine asks, not wanting to be torn away from his book.

“No, silly,” Brittany says. “That was just because the Prince of Essex was arriving and he’s really important. Only the nobles will go greet Santana with Kurt and the King. And me.”

“I see,” Blaine nods. “Well, I’m sure that Lady Lopez will absolutely adore your dress.”

Brittany grins wider. “Thanks, Blaine!” she says, hurrying over to him and smacking a kiss on his cheek. “You’re so sweet. I’m so glad that the King chose you and gave me the opportunity to be your friend.”

Blaine blushes, but smiles back at her, touched. “I feel the same way, Brittany.”

She kisses his cheek again, then goes to leave again. Blaine watches her fondly as she walks into the corridors, hoping that she will have fun with her friend.

The doors close, and Blaine turns back to his book, excited to continue with his own fun.

**

Blaine reads for most of the day, pausing only to eat a brief lunch and to have dinner. He plans on continuing to read after dinner, almost halfway done with the book by now. James has just arrived at the castle, and Blaine is anxious to read about his life now that he is no longer a mere florist, but Elliott stops him and pushes him toward his room instead.

“You’ve been glued to that couch all day. You’re getting a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow you have to promise me that you will go outside for at least one hour.”

“But-”

“No but’s,” Elliott says, wagging a chastising finger. “I’ve seen you do this before, and it never means good things for the state of your head. Sleep, then you can continue reading tomorrow, with a pause for walk outside.”

Blaine wants to argue that this is not like the other times. He is not upset or anxious or disappointed in any way. Before he says it, however, he thinks of the night before. Of the King sending him away after dinner instead of spending the night with him. Of Kurt touching his face so softly, staring at his lips with such deep want, then stepping away.

“Alright,” he says. “But only because you’re telling me to.”

Elliott smiles. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Blaine nods. Elliott opens the door for him, and Blaine rolls his eyes but still chuckles fondly. It’s good to know that Elliott has his back, after all.

He changes into his sleep clothes and quickly does his nighttime routine. He pauses when he goes to shave, hand going to where Kurt’s was the night before. He strokes over his jaw, closing his eye and picturing Kurt doing so instead. He can see Kurt before him, as though he were real, staring down at Blaine’s lips, blue eyes clouded over with want.

He drops his hand and Kurt moves away. His eyes open and he’s back in the water closet, alone.

He picks up his razor and shaves.

**

He allows himself to sleep in the next day, pulling his canopy closed when the sun wakes him.

There is a small plate with his name scribbled on a piece of paper next to it, the words _from Brittany_ underneath _Blaine_. He smiles at her thoughtfulness, and sits to eat it at the table.

Only when his plate is entirely empty does he go over to a couch, pick up his book, and begin to read.

James’ evening with the Queen goes as expected. She talks politics with him, and Blaine deeply understands James’ discomfort as she does. He always hated when the King would discuss politics with him, wanting to keep the King’s political life and their time together separate.

After, the Queen and James go to bed, and the author trails off instead of tell the reader the graphic detail. Blaine has to admit that he is a little relieved. He does not want to be caught reading something so scandalous by, say, Sebastian.

The next chapter begins with James waking up and being sent away, the Queen admitting that, although she would love for him to stay, she has a very busy day ahead of her.

On his way out, James bumps into a young woman, close to his age, beautiful and fair. He apologizes, as does she, and then she continues into the Queen’s chambers, where he hears her greet her as, “Mother.”

Blaine’s heart skips a beat as James watches the Princess greet the barely-robed Queen. James cannot help but compare the Princess’s beauty to her mother’s, and _oh no_.

Blaine slams the book shut, eyes wide, heart racing wildly in his chest.

This is not happening. This is _not_ happening. This story cannot be going where Blaine thinks it’s going, it cannot, it _cannot_.

Taking a deep breath, Blaine opens the book again, briefly struggling to find his place.

The next chapter portrays James sitting at his desk, writing in a journal about how he cannot stop thinking about the Princess. Blaine reads on, horrified and slightly excited, as James waxes poetic on the beauty of the woman he worries he may fall in love with.

The chapter ends with James conversing with one of the Princess’s concubines, a woman named Elise, asking questions about the Princess. Blaine’s heart rattles in his chest, unable to stop reading at this point. It _is_ going where Blaine worried it would.

Oh, god.

Blaine speeds through the next two chapters, which detail another interaction with the Queen and James’ second meeting with the Princess, a meeting which involves them sharing a conversation that leaves both James and Blaine’s heads spinning. James’ infatuation with the Princess grows, and so does the perspiration gathering on Blaine’s brow.

He is about to begin the next chapter when the book is lifted right out of his hands. He looks up to see Elliott holding it, an eyebrow raised.

“Have you gone outside yet?”

Blaine shakes his head.

“It’s lunch,” he gestures to the table, now full of food. Blaine had not even notice the servants arrive. “Why don’t you pack yourself a picnic and eat it in the gardens?”

“But-” Blaine makes a reach for the novel. He needs to know what happens next.

Elliott pulls it further out of reach. “Blaine.” His voice is stern, but Blaine knows that it comes from a place of caring. With a sigh, he nods and stands, watching as Elliott carefully places a fallen leaf from one of the vases on the page to create a bookmark.

Blaine gathers some boiled vegetables and sandwiches together, leaving the other hot food where it is. He goes to his chamber and puts on a warm waistcoat, knowing it will not yet be cold enough for a jacket, but still too cold to go without some form of outer protection.

He walks slowly, trying to kill time. The boiled vegetables warm his hands through the cloth napkin he has wrapped them in. It’s a nice contrast to the cool air hitting his face and ruffling his hair.

“Blaine!”

Blaine turns, surprised. He sees Cooper and Mercedes, both covered in dirt, each with a tree sprout in their hands.

“Cooper,” he greets. “Mercedes.”

“What you got there?” Cooper asks, thrusting his tree sprout onto Mercedes and coming over, nose scrunching up as he sniffs. “It smells divine.”

Blaine holds up one napkin. “Boiled vegetables,” he holds up the other and says, “This one is ham sandwiches.”

“That sounds fantastic,” Cooper says, licking his lips. Blaine glances to Mercedes, who is trying to juggle both trees, glaring daggers into Cooper’s back. “Hey, Mercedes, do you mind if I take a quick break and join Blaine for lunch?”

Mercedes rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Just help me set these down and you can take a break. But you have to bring them to the stables later, okay? Both of them.”

Cooper nods and goes to help her. Once they’re set down, she reminds him that he has to bring _both_ trees, and then waves goodbye to Blaine and runs off to do other things.

There’s a bench nearby, thankfully, so Blaine Cooper sit on it and Blaine spreads out the napkins on the bit of bench between them.

They chat idly as they eat. It’s mainly Cooper talking about how much work they’ve had to do for the Prince of Essex’s arrival, and how he expected the workload to lower once the Prince arrived, but it’s actually doubled since. Mercedes keeps them all on a tight leash, and she is insisting that absolutely nothing can go wrong while the Prince is here.

Blaine listens absentmindedly, munching on a sandwich and popping some of the cooled vegetables into his mouth. He tries to focus, wanting to keep his mind off the book back in the common rooms, but his thoughts keep drifting to it.

The other day’s events made him consider that Kurt might reciprocate his feelings, but now… Now he’s almost certain.

Of course, the book could end with the Princess and Queen realizing James’ feelings and sentencing him to death, in which case Kurt would be sending him the message that Blaine needs to watch himself. But to be honest Blaine can’t really see Kurt doing something like that. Kurt isn’t exactly the type.

“Oh, hey,” Cooper says, pausing his monologue about gardening. “Isn’t that your good friend the Prince?”

Blaine looks up and, oh lord, sure enough. There is Kurt, walking with the Prince of Essex, chatting amiably. Brittany and a woman he does not recognize walk slightly behind them, engaged in what looks like a very deep conversation.

He ducks his head, not wanting to be seen. He’s already confused enough about Kurt, the last thing he needs is to actually interact with him.

Unfortunately for him, Brittany doesn’t seem to notice his body language, and she is soon shouting, “Blaine! Blaine, hi!” and moving their small party in his direction.

“Hello, Brittany,” he says, smiling at her. He bows his head at Kurt, “Your Highness,” he says. Then he turns to the Prince of Essex, bows as well, and repeats, “Your Highness.”

“This is Santana,” Brittany says, gesturing to the woman beside her. Blaine looks up at her and finds her smirking at him. She glances at Kurt, and Blaine does as well. He finds Kurt glaring at her. “Remember I told you about her?”

Blaine nods. “Of course. Lady Lopez, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He bows his head to her as well, but she doesn’t return the gesture. Instead she just keeps smirking.

“You’re as pretty as I was told,” she says. Blaine glances at Brittany, who looks curiously at her friend.

“Santana,” Kurt hisses, and when Blaine turns to him he sees his cheeks have flushed a pale pink. “Don’t be rude. Blaine is my friend.”

“Oh, this is _that_ Blaine,” Lady Lopez says, still smirking. “Well, he truly is a looker. You - I mean, your father - chose well.”

Kurt’s eyes blaze in the direction of his friend, and Blaine wishes he could sink directly into the ground. He glances to the Prince of Essex, and sees him looking back at him, his expression giving away nothing.

The Prince leans in and whispers something to Kurt, something that makes the red in Kurt’s cheeks deepen. Kurt turns to him, lips parted, and the Prince just raises an eyebrow. Kurt’s eyes go to Blaine, and Blaine presses his lips together. He really wishes he were anywhere but here at this moment.

“We should go,” Kurt says after several moments of awkward silence. “It was wonderful to see you Blaine.”

Blaine nods, accepts a quick hug from Brittany, and then watches them go, the two Princes walking closer to each other than they were before.

“I still cannot believe that you’re friends with the Prince,” Cooper says once the small group is far enough away.

Blaine watches as the Prince of Essex puts his arm around Kurt’s waist and pulls him closer, whispering something else in his ear, and his heart drops. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Me neither.”

**

He and Cooper talk for about another fifteen minutes before Cooper has to go back to work. Blaine offers to help him carry the tree sprouts, but Cooper insists that he can do it alone. They say their goodbyes and Blaine heads back to the castle.

He finds Elliott sitting in the common room and goes to pick up his book. He raises an eyebrow at his friend and asks, “Am I allowed to continue reading now?”

Elliott chuckles and nods. Blaine sits on the couch opposite to Elliott and curls his legs under himself, getting comfortable.

“You’re really enjoying that book, huh?” Elliott asks. “I’ve seen you read books quickly before, but not with so much interest.”

Blaine shrugs. “I can relate to the protagonist. It’s not a very common thing.”

Elliott snorts and nods. “Amen to that.”

He goes back to his own book, and Blaine opens his to where he left off, excitement already coursing through his veins.

**

He is almost finished the book, only two chapters left, by the time dinner is served. Elliott once again pulls the book right out of his hand and forces him to eat with everybody else.

Brittany talks to him all through dinner about her wonderful day with Lady Lopez. Blaine barely pays attention half the time, eyes constantly going to the red book positioned so carefully on one of the small tables next to the couches.

The longer he’s read, the more it’s become clear that this story is not meant to be a cautionary tale from Kurt about his feelings. On the contrary, James and the Princess have been in a relationship for the last third of the book, and are currently devising a plan to escape the castle.

Blaine knows he shouldn’t even be considering it, not now that it looks like the King is finally showing him favour again, but he can’t help but hope that these are all signs that Kurt returns his feelings.

It’s silly. They wouldn’t be able to act on said feelings, even if they wanted to. Not with Blaine being Kurt’s father’s concubine and with Kurt being betrothed. Still, Blaine can’t help but smile to himself at the thought of Kurt actually liking him back. Of the boy he’s had a crush on for basically his entire life, and most likely been in love with for the last month, thinking of Blaine the same way that Blaine thinks of him.

Bryan stands to leave, just as usual, and Blaine hurries to stand as well, announcing loudly, “I’m finished, too.”

Elliott gives him a level stare and says, “So you’re going to bed then?”

Blaine stares at him and Elliott stares back, an eyebrow raised. Blaine glances at the book, wanting nothing more than to just finish the damn thing already, but he sighs and nods.

He knows Elliott is just looking out for him. Frustrating as it may be, he still appreciates the gesture.

“Goodnight, everybody,” he says, waving to them all. They return the goodnight and Blaine heads to his chambers.

He goes through his night time routine quickly, curling up in his bed soon enough. He leaves the curtains of his canopy drawn so as to wake up with the sun, hoping to wake earlier than Elliott so as to finish the last two chapters of his book in peace.

He wiggles around in his bed, smiling giddily.

Kurt likes him. He gave him a book about an illicit relationship between a concubine and a Princess. He spoke about him to Lady Lopez. He _likes_ him.

Nothing can happen, but that doesn’t stop Blaine from falling asleep with a smile on his face. Right now it doesn’t matter that nothing can happen. What matters is that at this very moment, Blaine is absolutely, one hundred percent, certain that Kurt returns his feelings.

**

Breakfast is already laid out by the time Blaine arrives in the common room the next morning, so he forces himself to eat a large bowl full of fruits before grabbing his book and settling in.

It takes him less than an hour to finish the final two chapters of the book, lengthy though they are, and by the time he is done Blaine feels like all the air has been knocked right out of his body.

He sets the book down carefully next to him, mind whirring.

They had a happy ending. James and the Princess. They ran away together to another kingdom, where they wedded and settled in for a life of simple farmers, happy just to be with one another.

He can already tell that he is veering dangerously close to getting lost in his thoughts, so he picks up the book and starts to make his way to Kurt’s room.

His heart pounds as he walks through the halls of the castle. There are servants and a few nobles roaming, but once he passes the kitchens the amount of people milling about severely decreases.

Kurt wants to be with him. That can be the only explanation for his giving Blaine this book.

Blaine just doesn’t understand why Kurt would bother telling him this way. Why not kiss Blaine, when they were alone the other night? Why not kiss Blaine any of the times they have ridden alone together? Why not simply _tell_ Blaine, and let the cards fall where they may?

The night before, Blaine was already certain of Kurt’s feelings, but he’d been tired and his feelings had been a little overwhelming. He was excited, and in a way he still is, but he is still fully aware that he and Kurt do not have a future. They do not have the ability to casually date for a few months to see where things go. They cannot become engaged, they cannot marry. In all technicalities, Blaine is quite sure that they aren’t even supposed to be friends.

So why would Kurt admit his feelings to him through a book with a happy ending? Is Kurt really so deluded that he believes that they can be together? Despite his father, despite the Prince of Essex, despite everything?

Blaine turns the final corner to Kurt’s room, and slows his walk, frowning.

The guards are not at Kurt’s door. He glances around, but does not see them anywhere in the hallway. His fingers clench around the book in his hand and he walks to Kurt’s door slowly, dread filling his stomach.

He is halfway there when the doors open. Blaine freezes as the Prince of Essex walks out, hair tussled, wearing the same clothes he wore the day before.

His heart sinks right down to his feet.

A moment later Kurt is standing at the door as well, leaning against it and smiling lovingly at the Prince. The Prince leans in, takes Kurt’s jaw in hand, and gives him a long, hard kiss.

Oh, god. How foolish. How absolutely, inexplicably foolish Blaine has been.

To think that Kurt could return his feelings when he has a handsome Prince at his disposal? To think that perhaps Kurt had leant him this book to show his true intentions, rather than simply because they are friends and Kurt knows he enjoys to read?

Blaine takes a step back as the couple breaks their kiss, and the Prince of Essex turns to leave. His eyes meet Blaine’s as he does so. He raises his eyebrows at Blaine, though his expression once again gives no hint as to his thoughts or emotions. He waves at Blaine, the move slightly awkward and stilted, then walks down the adjacent hall, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone.

Kurt watches him go, the fond smile dropping from his face and a frown overtaking it. He looks up, and his eyes widen when they see Blaine.

“Blaine,” he says. His voice is quiet, but the empty hall makes it easy for Blaine to make out.

Blaine shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes, and he turns to leave.

“Blaine!” Kurt shouts it this time, and Blaine can hear his feet pounding against the marble of the floor. Within seconds Kurt’s hand is around Blaine’s arm and he is turning him around to face him. “Blaine, please, let me explain-”

“Why did you give me this?” Blaine asks, voice hoarse, throat dry.

Kurt’s brow furrows. “What? Give you-”

Blaine slams the book into Kurt’s chest. A tear falls down his cheek. “Why did you give me this _damn_ book?”

Kurt’s lips part. Blaine removes his hand and the book falls to the floor.

“Blaine I-”

“Was it… was it to make fun?” Blaine asks, more tears falling. “Was it to give me false hope? Were you and the Prince laughing together, thinking of silly old Blaine, reading a book about a concubine and a Princess, coming to conclusions? Is this your idea of a _joke_?”

“No!” Kurt shouts. “No, Blaine, please, just let me-”

“I thought we were friends,” Blaine shouts. His hands curl into fists, and he glares through his tears. “I thought that you and I, if anything, were friends.”

“We are,” Kurt says, both hands going to Blaine’s shoulders. “We are, Blaine, but-”

“But? But _what_ Kurt?” Blaine pushes Kurt’s hands off of him. “You know, I should have known it was too good to be true. It was too good to be true back in Westerville, and it was too good to be true now.”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “You - You remember Westerville?”

Blaine snorts. “Don’t act like you do. Don’t act like any of this meant anything to you.”

“It did. Blaine, you mean so much to-”

“Then why did you sleep with him?!” Blaine yells, pointing angrily in the direction that the Prince disappeared down. “Why did you - why -?” He can’t even finish his sentence, tears flowing down his cheeks.

“Blaine I-” Kurt chews on his bottom lip, eyes pleading. “I’m going to marry him, Blaine. We’re-”

Blaine runs a hand over his face and has to stop himself from shouting in frustration. “Then why did you give me that book?”

“I don’t - I don’t know, Blaine. I just thought… I wanted you to know…”

“Know that I don’t stand a chance? Did you want to rub it in my face that, even if there was the slightest chance that you might return my feelings, it wouldn't matter?”

“ _No_ ,” Kurt says, and now his voice is shaking and tears are springing to his eyes as well. “I don’t -” he wipes a hand over his face. “I’m having a hard time explaining, I just want you to understand-”

“I understand,” Blaine says. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. “I understand that I’ve been a fool for thinking you were my friend. I was a fool for thinking you could ever like me. I was a fool for taking that book from you, and I was a fool for thinking that maybe, just maybe, you actually meant something by it.” He shakes his head, and gives Kurt one final glare before turning on his heel and walking away.

He almost reaches the first turn in the hallway when Kurt says, “I do remember Westerville.”

Blaine freezes, but doesn’t make a move to turn and look at Kurt.

“You were covered in flour,” Kurt continues. “Another man had his arms wrapped around you but I… I didn’t care. I couldn’t look away.”

_Then why didn’t you come looking for me?_

Blaine shakes his head and continues walking. He is not going to give Kurt any more opportunities to break his heart.

**

He is still quietly sniffling by the time he reaches the concubine quarters, though thankfully the tears have stopped. He wants nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for the next three days, but he doesn’t make it further than the front door before he is stopped by Mason.

“There you are,” Mason says, looking beyond bored. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Sorry,” Blaine says, wiping under his eyes to make sure there’s no wetness there. “Is everything all right?”

Mason nods. “Yes, of course. I’m just here to deliver the message that the King wants you tonight. He has asked that you come after dinner.”

Blaine wants to burst into tears all over again. Of course. Of _course_ this would happen today. Of course _now_ after over a month of _nothing_ …

“Does he actually want me?” Blaine asks, voice hard. “Or is this going to be like last time, where he asks me to come and then cancels at the last minute? Because if it is, then I won’t bother going.”

Mason’s eyes widen, taken aback, but Blaine can’t find it in himself to feel bad. If what happened last time happens again, on today of all days? He doesn’t think he could handle it.

The sound of a door opening provides a background to Mason’s, “Yes, of course. He definitely wants you tonight. He seemed very eager when he asked me to give the message.”

“Aw, isn’t that cute?” Blaine turns to see Sebastian leaning against a nearby bookshelf. He’s smirking that annoying smirk, the same one that Blaine saw from the Prince of Essex that very morning, and Blaine would really love nothing more than to punch that stupid, smarmy smirk off of Sebastian’s face.

He clenches his fists. He’s never actually wanted to punch somebody before.

“Hey, whoa,” Sebastian raises his hands defensively, though the smirk is still in place. “Relax, tiger. Maybe getting laid will actually do you some good. You seem tense.”

Blaine glares at Sebastian, then turns the glare onto Mason. “Anything else you need to tell me?”

Mason glances at Sebastian, then purses his lips together and shakes his head. Blaine looks back at Sebastian, but finds he just looks as smug as ever. Blaine rolls his eyes, then says, “Tell the King I’ll be there,” and storms off to his room.

He feels like he wants to explode. Everything is too much. So far this has been the day from hell, and, despite wanting nothing more than for the King to call on him for the past month, right now being with the King is literally the last thing Blaine wants to do.

He collapses onto his bed, still fully clothed, and screams into the nearest pillow.

When he’s done screaming, he bursts into tears again.

**

Blaine cries for the majority of the day. He drifts off at one point and naps for a short period of time. It isn’t long after he wakes up that he starts crying again.

He feels beyond pathetic. He’s always known nothing could happen with Kurt. He never even considered that Kurt may return his feelings until only a few days ago. The thought that he and Kurt could somehow be together, despite everything, was never even an option.

So why did it hurt so much to see Kurt with somebody else?

Why did Kurt give him that stupid book, only to turn around and sleep with Adam two days later?

God, he hadn’t even denied it. He hadn’t even _tried_ to deny it.

Blaine wipes at his face. Of course Kurt hadn’t denied it. Sex for nobles isn’t the same as sex for people of Blaine’s caste. It isn’t pure or sacred or something to be saved for that one special person. It’s just… it’s just sex. He should be used to that by now, having watched the King call almost all of his concubines in at one point or another over the past month. For him they’re just warm bodies. Pretty people to play with and keep himself entertained.

Why would sex be any different for Kurt?

He feels like a twelve year old again. Dreaming foolish dreams of an idealized Prince coming to take him away to the castle and marry him, turning his back on all other temptations. He still remembers how devastated he’d been at only ten when Kurt chose Brittany as a concubine. All of his hopes and dreams, shattered. What was romantic about Kurt choosing him now, after he’d already chosen somebody else?

He sits up, heart aching and head pounding.

Would Kurt even want him? The King had been so in love with the idea of being Blaine’s first. He _loved_ that he was the only one who’d ever touched Blaine.

Kurt knew that Blaine wasn’t untouched. There would be no point in lying to Kurt, not even about David. He already knew Blaine wasn’t pure. Why would he want somebody like that? A used up baker’s boy from Nowheresville who’d given his body to Kurt’s own father?

Foolish. He’d been so, so foolish.

He gets out of bed and goes to the water closet to wash his face and prepare for his meeting with the King. The last thing he needs after this hellish day is for the King to realize that Blaine’s spent the entire day crying.

He dresses in the loosest of his nice clothes. No point wearing anything intricate. It’ll just get in the way.

He stares at himself in the mirror for a long time, trying to tell himself that it’ll be okay. He’s pretty sure that all traces of his day spent crying in bed have disappeared, but he’s still worried the King will be able to tell. He doesn’t exactly feel like explaining to the King that he spent the day crying after finding out that said King’s son slept with his betrothed. He doesn’t see that going over very well.

Dinner is finishing by the time Blaine comes out. Only Elliott, Sue, and Will are still sitting around the table. Elliott notices Blaine and stands up to greet him, but Blaine just shakes his head and gestures to the front door. He doesn’t want to stick around and talk, to be honest. He just wants to get this day over and done with.

He walks through the halls, glancing around desperately as he does. Part of him really, really, really wants Kurt to see him. He wants Kurt to _know_.

It’s childish, and petty, but Blaine doesn’t care. He just spent an entire day feeling like absolute garbage because of Kurt. He doesn’t think it’s a bad thing to want Kurt to feel even the slightest hint of the same.

Unfortunately he does not run into Kurt in the halls, which, in hindsight, is probably good. He doesn’t want to be too shaken up for his night with the King. He needs to show the King that he’s still worthy of being called upon on the regular. He needs the King to know that he can’t become like Sue or Will, only called upon once every six months, ignored for younger and more beautiful men and women.

He squares his shoulders as he arrives at the King’s chambers. He greets the guards and tells them that the King is waiting for him. The guards share a smirk, then open the door for Blaine, allowing him to enter.

Blaine takes a deep breath as he walks through the empty room, heading directly for the door leading to the King’s room. It’s closed, and Blaine takes yet another deep breath before knocking on it.

“Blaine?” The King asks, and Blaine takes that as a sign to open the door. He peers his head around it, going for adorable and coy, but he freezes when he looks into the room, hands gripping the wood of the door so tightly he’d be surprised if he didn’t get a splinter.

 _This isn’t happening_ Blaine thinks, heart racing. _This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening_.

“Come in,” the King says, waving him forward. Blaine can’t move though, eyes stuck on the other man on the King’s bed, smirking at Blaine and raising his eyebrows in challenge.

“Yes, Blaine,” Sebastian says. “Won’t you come in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/146770374500/one-of-five-1113)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the cliffhanger last chapter! No cliffhanger at the end of this one, I promise. That being said, this chapter is not going to be to many people’s liking. It’s almost exclusively a sex scene, but it’s actually quite important to the story as a whole. Because of it’s importance to the rest of the story, I have written a synopsis of the chapter that is far less explicit than the actual chapter,[ which you can read here](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/146902006655/one-of-five-1213-synopsis). Please read that instead of this if you are worried about being triggered or squicked out in any way, shape, or form. 
> 
> For this chapter more than ever, please keep [the warnings for this fic](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost) in mind. Please.

“I - I’m sorry,” Blaine stutters, unable to move. “I must have understood Mason’s message wrong. I - I’ll go -”

The King stands and hurries to him, reaching him before Blaine even has the chance to take a step back. He pries Blaine’s hands from the door and smiles. “You didn’t misunderstand.”

“But - Sebastian,” Blaine looks past the King, hoping against hope that what he thinks is happening is not happening.

“I know. Come,” he takes one of Blaine’s hands, links their fingers together, and starts pulling him toward the bed.

Blaine’s eyes go to Sebastian, who is sitting up on the bed, looking entirely too comfortable with this situation. It’s unfair. Sebastian was obviously given time to process what is about to happen. Blaine has been thrust in headfirst.

The King kneels on the bed and pulls Blaine along with him. Blaine shuffles, kneeling on the plush covers. Sebastian moves closer to him, and Blaine has to resist the urge to push him away.

“The other night,” the King begins, looking between them with his pupils dilated, “when I saw you two together, before I took Blaine to dinner. You looked so beautiful.” He reaches a hand out to stroke Blaine’s cheek, and another to stroke Sebastian’s. The touch feels foreign, despite Blaine knowing it well. The King’s hands are rough and too big, nothing at all like…

Blaine glances to Sebastian and sees that he is leaning into the carres, clearly far better at this than Blaine is. Blaine forces himself to relax, closing his eyes and tilting his head into the King’s palm.

“I haven’t been able to think of anything else since,” the King continues, his thumb rubbing circles over Blaine’s cheeks. “Seeing you kiss, touch.” He pauses and Blaine opens his eyes, sees the King staring at them intently. “Fuck.”

Blaine’s heart speeds up in his chest at the word. Having sex with Sebastian is quite literally the last thing he wants to do.

“So beautiful,” the King whispers, then leans in and presses his lips to Blaine’s.

Despite the situation and the panic rising in Blaine’s chest, he cannot help but kiss back, instinct taking over. He moves his lips against the King’s, matching his enthusiasm and pressing in as hard as he can. He raises a hand to the King’s nape, wanting to keep him close for longer, but his fingers barely graze the back of the King’s neck before he is pulling away.

Blaine’s eyes flutter open and he sees the King lean in to kiss Sebastian. Jealousy immediately floods through his veins as he watches his lover kiss the only man he can truly say he despises.

They seem to kiss for longer than Blaine and the King did, Sebastian instantly bringing his hands to the King’s jaw and holding him close. Sebastian kisses voraciously, like he cannot get enough. The King responds in kind, and it isn’t long before Sebastian is crawling into the King’s lap, his tongue licking into the King’s mouth far too obviously.

Blaine scowls as he watches them. It is so plain to see that Sebastian is putting on a show for him, rubbing it in his face that he is a better kisser, a better lover.

Not if Blaine has anything to say about it.

He moves forward and presses a kiss to the King’s jaw, making sure his lips brush Sebastian’s fingers so that he knows he is there. He kisses down to the King’s neck, where he begins to suck, kiss, and lick insistently. The King lets out a moan, muffled by Sebastian’s mouth, and Blaine smirks.

As he continues to suck a hickey into the King’s neck, he brings his hand between the King and Sebastian, finding the King’s cock without difficulty and cupping it firmly.

“Oh, god,” the King breaks his kiss with Sebastian, but Blaine manages to stay attached to his neck. “Blaine,” he groans. Blaine opens an eye and glances at Sebastian. Sebastian is staring back, eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare. Blaine just closes his eyes and continues to work on the King’s neck, hand fondling the King’s dick through his pants.

“Blaine,” the King repeats, less breathy this time. His hand wraps around Blaine’s wrist and pulls him away from his cock. Blaine moves away from the King’s neck, frowning.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, making sure to widen his eyes as much as possible, playing up his innocence. He knows the King has always loved that about him.

The King shakes his head frantically. “No, not at all. I just - if you kept doing that I would have forgotten why we were really here.”

 _That was sort of the point,_ Blaine thinks. He bites down on his lip instead, waiting for instructions on how to proceed.

The King looks between them, chest already heaving, and says, “Kiss.”

It’s a command, not a question. Blaine turns his body in such a way that he is facing Sebastian but still giving the King a good vantage point. Sebastian does the same and leans in so close their noses brush.

Their eyes meet, and Blaine knows that Sebastian wants to do this about as much as he does. In a way it gives Blaine the upper hand, and he’s the one to close the gap between them, slotting their lips together.

It’s… different. He thinks the closest he can relate it to was when he kissed that merchant girl as a young boy. As pleasurable as a kiss can be, but without anything really behind it. Not how he feels when he kisses the King, whom he desperately wants to please, or how he felt when he kissed Dave, whom he loved. Just lips against lips.

Sebastian angles their faces so that their lips are more visible to the King, and makes a show of pushing his tongue into Blaine’s mouth. Blaine pushes into the kiss, curling his tongue around Sebastian’s in such a way that makes the other man moan.

Blaine smirks into the kiss. He definitely has the upper hand.

They continue kissing, pausing every now and then to catch their breath. Blaine wonders how long he’s going to have to do this. He would much rather this evening include more of him and Sebastian focusing on the King than the King focusing on him and Sebastian.

“You can touch each other,” the King says. “I want to see you touch each other.”

Blaine reacts instantly, hands going to Sebastian’s waist and moving under his shirt, just as loose as his own. Sebastian’s skin is soft, which honestly does not surprise Blaine much. Sebastian’s water closet is most likely just as full of moisturizing lotions as Blaine’s is.

He pushes Sebastian’s shirt up and off, then moves to do the same with his own. He kisses Sebastian as soon as they are both shirtless, hands roaming over Sebastian’s chest.

Sebastian breaks the kiss and goes to kiss Blaine’s jaw. His lips come up to Blaine’s ear and he whispers, “Touch my nipples. He loves watching me play with my nipples.”

Blaine obeys, smoothing his hands up Sebastian’s chest until he finds the already hard nubs. He swipes over them with his thumbs, and Sebastian throws his head back with a loud moan.

Blaine chances a glance at the King as he continues to rub Sebastian’s nipples, and his throat dries when he sees the King already has his cock out and is leisurely stroking himself as he watches.

Feeling bolder, Blaine keeps one hand on Sebastian’s chest and lowers his other hand to Sebastian’s growing erection.

Sebastian groans again and Blaine attaches his lips to Sebastian’s neck as he fondles him gently, cradling Sebastian’s balls through the fabric.

The King moans. Blaine smirks against Sebastian’s neck and dips his hand under the waistband of Sebastian’s pants.

He fits easily, Sebastian having dressed just as loosely as himself. He wraps his hand around Sebastian’s dick at the same time he pinches one of Sebastian’s nipples.

He wants to please the King, but this is still Sebastian, so he makes sure to tighten his grip more than he usually would and moves his hand up Sebastian’s cock swiftly. Sebastian hisses and brings a hand to Blaine’s side, pinching him hard. Blaine moves away from Sebastian’s neck and raises a challenging eyebrow as he strokes him again.

“Suck him.”

Blaine turns to the King, eyes widening. The words feel so misplaced in the silence of the room, and for a moment Blaine isn’t sure he even understands.

Sebastian doesn’t seem to either. He turns his head toward the King as well and very quietly asks, “Burt?”

“I want to watch you suck him,” the King’s eyes are on Blaine. He wants to watch Blaine blow Sebastian.

Oh, god.

Blaine looks back at Sebastian, and finds him staring at him wide eyed as well. This isn’t… Kissing Sebastian was one thing, but this…

Sebastian cups his hand around the back of Blaine’s neck and pulls him in close. “It’s okay,” he whispers before he kisses Blaine, softer than before. A reassurance. “It’s okay.”

“Easy for you to say,” Blaine whispers back, biting down gently on Sebastian’s lip. Sebastian gasps. He tightens his grip on Blaine’s nape.

“I won’t…” he says the words so quietly Blaine can barely hear them. He’s sure the King can’t hear any of this at all. “It’ll be okay.”

Blaine swallows thickly and pulls away, taking a moment to look into Sebastian’s eyes. Eyes that have never looked at him with anything other than apathy, scorn, or amusement. Now they look concerned. Honest. Sympathetic. The King could have just as easily asked Sebastian to suck Blaine.

He didn’t though.

“Please,” the King says, and Blaine glances his way, sees his hand moving faster over his cock. “You’re so good at it, Blaine. I want you to show him how good you are.”

Blaine bites down on his lip. Sebastian’s hand rises to his hair and tangles there. He pulls gently, so that Blaine is facing him again. He mouths ‘It’s okay’ again, and Blaine tilts his head forward softly, a barely there nod.

It’s not okay, and Sebastian knows it. In fact, Blaine is surprised that Sebastian isn’t lording this over Blaine, smirking the way he had when Blaine first entered the room, saying, “Yes, Blaine. Suck me! Show me just how inept at love making you really are.”

Swallowing thickly, Blaine leans forward and presses a barely there kiss to Sebastian’s neck, really just lips touching skin. It’s a delay, and they both know it. Sebastian’s hand strokes his head, a soft yet firm reassurance. It’s so strange, coming from Sebastian, but he supposes it’s better than nothing.

He kisses down Sebastian’s chest, briefly stopping to pay attention to his nipples, an action which makes the King moan out loud and announce that, “Fuck, you’re so pretty together.”

The closer Blaine’s mouth gets to Sebastian’s waist, the more nervous he becomes. He’s only ever done this to the King, and even then not that often. Most times the King is too distracted by Blaine’s ass to want anything else. Quite frankly, Blaine prefers it that way.

Blaine finally reaches the waistband of Sebastian’s pants and he carefully dips his fingers under it. He’s in a strange position, back curved uncomfortable, ass sticking right into the air, neck bent. He hates everything about this.

Sebastian’s breath hitches, and Blaine decides it’s better to just get this over with. He taps Sebastian’s hips, and Sebastian lifts them obediently, allowing Blaine to slip the pants down, under his ass and off his legs.

Sebastian’s cock is suddenly there, right in front of him. He’s longer than David was, though not thicker. Much smaller than the King, thankfully. He’s hard, Blane is too, and he wonders if Sebastian hates his body for reacting this way as much as Blaine does.

He leans down and sucks the tip of Sebastian’s cock into his mouth. The fingers in his hair tighten, and Sebastian automatically jerks up, cock thrusting deep into Blaine’s mouth. Blaine gags a little, surprised, but doesn’t move away. He keeps Sebastian’s cock where it is and relaxes his throat around it.

Once he’s certain he won’t gag, he moves his mouth down further, until his mouth is resting firmly against Sebastian’s groin, nose pressed against skin, mouth and throat full. He can hear the King moaning, and Sebastian moans as well, fingers wrapping around Blaine’s curls.

Slowly, Blaine moves his lips up Sebastian’s cock and then takes him back down. His neck is already starting to hurt at the awkward position it’s in. He tries to rearrange himself, but with Sebastian still sitting up there isn’t really any other way he can do this. Besides, he knows this way affords the King the best view.

He bobs up and down on Sebastian’s cock, trying desperately to get him off as fast as possible so this can end. It’s sloppy, and not the best he can do, but he doesn’t care. This isn’t about Sebastian’s pleasure, or his own. This is for the King, and they both know it.

The bed shifts and a shadow covers Blaine. He looks up, neck twisting even more awkwardly than before, and sees the King leaning over them, kissing Sebastian. Blaine closes his eyes and tries to focus on the task at hand.

A hand smooths over his ass, and instinctively Blaine pushes against it. The hand is wider than the one in his hair, which means it must be the King. He pushes his ass further into the King’s hand, rolling his hips as an encouragement to grope.

The King squeezes his ass, then moves up to his waistband and pulls his pants down slowly. Once they’re far enough down Blaine kicks them off as best as he can while still keeping Sebastian’s cock in his mouth and the King’s hand on his now bare ass. It’s a bit of a challenge, but he finally manages to rid himself entirely of the pants.

The hand on his ass disappears, and so does the King’s shadow. Blaine doesn’t pause his efforts to get Sebastian to come soon. In fact, he goes faster, bobbing his head up and down as quickly as his neck allows.

The King’s hand returns, this time pulling an ass cheek aside. A slick finger grazes Blaine’s hole, and Blaine moans around Sebastian.

The King starts fingering him almost immediately. His finger slips inside Blaine’s hole and Blaine rocks his hips against it.

It’s strange, having something inside him after so long.

Far too soon there are three fingers pumping in and out of his asshole and Blaine is trying his best to relax his muscles and accommodate them. The King keeps whispering things like, “So tight,” and, “yeah baby, suck him while I finger you. You’re so good, Blaine. Such a good boy.”

Normally the praise would make Blaine preen.

Normally Blaine doesn’t have Sebastian’s cock in his throat.

Finally, Sebastian’s hands tighten in his hair and he whispers, “I’m going to come.”

The fingers slip out of his ass and the King’s hand (his dry one) comes to Blaine’s face, rubbing over his hollowed cheeks with a thumb, and says, “Don’t. I want you to fuck him.”

Blaine pulls off Sebastian’s cock slowly, not wanting to alert the King as to the panic that has just flown through him.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that he’s had to give the one person who has made his life difficult since his arrival in the castle a blowjob, now the King wants Blaine to let Sebastian fuck him?

He sits up carefully, back cracking as his bones seem to slide back into their proper place. The King is kneeling next to them, one hand trailing down Blaine’s side, the other on the back of Sebastian’s neck.

Blaine stares directly into Sebastian’s eyes, trying to convey how desperately he does not want Sebastian’s cock in his ass. Sebastian looks just as unwilling, green eyes shining with a desperation Blaine wasn’t aware he was capable of.

Carefully, trying to be sly, Blaine glances down at the King’s hard cock. He then meets Sebastian’s eye and licks his lips.

Sebastian nods, and after a few more seconds of eye contact they lower themselves simultaneously.

“What are you-” the King is cut off as Sebastian wraps his lips around the head of his cock and Blaine starts to kiss down the side. “Oh, _god_ ,” he groans. One hand comes to the back of Blaine’s head, holding him there gently. Blaine can only assume that his other hand is buried in Sebastian’s hair.

They catch each other’s eye occasionally as they work the King over together. Blaine licks around any part of the King’s cock that Sebastian can’t reach, and when Sebastian starts to deepthroat the King he lies on his stomach and sucks on the King’s balls.

At one point they kiss over the King’s cock, eyes locked on each other, tongues dancing in sync over the King’s skin.

It isn’t long before the King says, “Forget what I said before,” as he pulls Blaine’s head away from his cock and tugs on his hair so Blaine looks up at him. “I want to fuck you myself.”

Blaine almost cries in relief. Sebastian pulls back as well. He sends Blaine the smallest smile before cuddling up to the King and asking, “And me, Burt?” in the silkiest, most seductive voice Blaine has ever heard.

“I want you to sit on my face,” the King says, and Sebastian practically purrs.

Together they lower the King onto the mattress so that he is lying on his back. Blaine grabs the oil still sitting on the nightstand by the King’s bed, as well as one of the several contraceptive devices lying next to it.

He rolls the small sock-like object over the King’s cock, then rubs oil over it to slick it up as much as possible. When he positions himself atop the King’s cock he looks over to make sure the King is ready for him, but instead sees nothing but Sebastian’s arched back and his spread ass, the King’s face buried between Sebastian’s cheeks.

Blaine watches, entirely enraptured. The King has never done that to him. Despite the many praises to his ass, he’s never buried his face there and eaten him out so ravenously. Or at all.

For the thousandth time that night Blaine’s heart sinks. With a deep breath, he turns so that he is facing away from the King and Sebastian and finally lowers himself on to the King’s cock.

It’s good that the first time he is doing this in so long he has control. He eases the King’s cock in, pinning the King’s hips down as much as he can to stop him from thrusting up.

He stops when he the King’s cock is entirely inside him, giving himself a minute to adjust to the size. He swivels his hips gently, making the King moan against Sebastian’s ass, and stretching him even further.

Finally he feels ready and slowly raises himself off the King’s lap. He waits until only the head of the King’s cock is still inside him before he lowers himself again. He doesn’t go as fast as he knows he can, easing himself into it. It has been over a month, after all.

It isn’t long before his thighs begin to burn, but Blaine pushes through it, bouncing on the King’s cock with increasing rapidity the more accustomed he gets to having something inside him again.

He can hear Sebastian and the King moaning behind him, so he parts his lips and moans as well, louder than he usually would. He and Sebastian may have worked together to avoid a situation neither of them desired, but they’re still in competition. Blaine still hates Sebastian.

Brief alliance or not, he’s still not going to let him win.

He tightens the muscles of his ass and brings a hand down to stroke his cock. He is entirely ready for this ordeal to be over and done with, and desperately wants the King to come. He knows that often the muscle spasms of his own orgasm send the King over the edge, and he is desperately hoping that that will be the case this time.

Sebastian moans especially loudly, and Blaine’s head tips back as his own orgasm overtakes him. He bounces faster than before, ass moving up and down the King’s dick as quickly as he can, fist flying over his cock.

Just as he hoped, mere moments after Blaine’s orgasm has subsided the King comes. Blaine continues to thrust himself on him, milking the King’s orgasm despite the sensitivity beginning to overtake him.

The King’s hand runs down his back as he comes, and Blaine moans loudly for the King’s benefit, eyes screwed shut, smiling to himself with the knowledge that this night is finally, finally over.

He waits until the King pinches his hips to lift up and off, knowing better than to remove his ass from the King’s cock too soon. He falls onto his back, breathing heavily, stomach splattered with his own come. He glances over and sees the King and Sebastian equally spent, chests heaving at the same rhythm as Blaine’s.

The King brings an arm around Blaine and pulls him closer, kissing his forehead. “Missed you,” he whispers. Blaine looks up and forces a smile when he makes eye contact with the King. He feels utterly exhausted, physically and emotionally, and can’t seem to move his lips enough to tell the simple lie that he missed the King as well.

Or, is it a lie? He’s been dying to be called upon by the King since the King called Sue. Does that count as missing the King?

Sebastian is the first to stand and move to the King’s private water closet. He returns with two wet towels. He wipes his stomach off, then removes the contraceptive from Burt’s cock and wipes him down, tossing the other (already soiled) towel in Blaine’s direction.

He and Blaine’s eyes meet briefly and Sebastian mouths ‘Thank you.’ Blaine doesn’t know what he’s thankful for, can’t find anything to be thankful for himself, so doesn’t respond, looking down to his own body as he cleans himself.

Once they’re all clean the King moves so that he is under the covers and wraps an arm around each younger man to pull them with him. “Think there’s enough room for all three of us tonight?” He asks the question with a playful smirk, eyes going between the men.

Blaine nods and curls up under the blankets easily, moving in close to the King’s side. He pillows his head on the King’s shoulder, trying to find comfort in the way the King rubs his fingers over his shoulders. He closes his eyes when he sees Sebastian lay his head on the King’s chest, the King’s arm wrapped tightly around Sebastian’s shoulders.

He shuts his eyes tightly, wishing more than anything to erase this entire night from his memory.

If only that were possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/146902005100/one-of-five-1213)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday, and welcome to the last chapter of this fic!!!!! I hope you have all enjoyed taking this journey with me. I can't wait to share the rest of this universe with you <3 Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos, you honestly make me feel like the luckiest author in the world <3 Also, a huge thank you to mailroomorder, who I really should be thanking every single chapter because she's helped me SO MUCH with this fic like honestly it would be completely illegible without her so thank you so much darling <3 
> 
> A lot of people seemed to be under the impression that this was just a trilogy but it is NOT! :D This is not the end!!!!! I will begin posting part four in about two weeks time :) 
> 
> As always, please keep [ the warnings for this fic ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/140753664325/a-night-with-the-king-warnings-masterpost) in mind! A specific warning for this chapter, which I'm not sure is included in the main warnings, is for vomit, so if you are upset by people throwing up be careful within the first section of this chapter. Hope you all enjoy, and see you in two weeks!

Blaine is woken by the sun filtering through his eyelids and, for a brief moment, everything feels okay.

He is comfortable, the bed even better than the already fantastic one he sleeps in every night. His naked body feels entirely boneless, still sated from the previous night, and he is curled tightly around the King, who is snoring gently in his ear.

Then, he remembers that he and the King are not alone. His eyelids flutter open and the very first thing he sees is Sebastian, already awake and staring intently at him.

Almost instantaneously, bile rises in Blaine’s throat. The throat Sebastian’s cock had been buried in the night before.

Oh, god.

He pushes himself up and out of the bed, not even bothering trying not to wake the King, and runs to the water closet. He throws himself onto the floor in front of the toilet and empties the contents of his stomach into the water.

He stays there for quite some time, tears streaming down his cheeks as the acid rises in his throat and falls into the toilet. He doesn’t know if he’s crying from the pain of the vomit or the humiliation of the previous night, but at this point it doesn’t seem to matter.

He doesn’t think there is anything left in his stomach to come out, but he stays at the toilet anyway, sobbing, unable to stop. His mouth tastes absolutely foul, and he feels worse than he has felt since he arrived at the castle.

A hand touches his back, and Blaine looks back to see the King standing above him, naked and concerned. Blaine hurries to stand, wiping at his mouth as he goes, but the King slows him down. He offers Blaine a hand to help him, which Blaine accepts gratefully.

“What’s wrong?” the King asks, eyes wide and concerned.

Blaine’s mind reels. How is he meant to answer a question as loaded as that one.

What’s wrong? The King hasn’t called on him in over a month after almost six months of calling on him exclusively.

What’s wrong? Sebastian has been taunting him since he arrived at the castle, and it has only become worse since he’s resumed his place as the King’s favourite.

What’s wrong? Blaine is deeply and irrevocably in love with the King’s son, whom just yesterday he thought loved him back, only to find him in the arms of another man.

What’s wrong? Blaine still feels like he cannot truly forgive his brother for leaving his family and never writing or visiting, while at the same time Blaine cannot bring himself to dip his pen in ink and write to his parents himself.

What’s wrong? Sometimes, late at night, Blaine still thinks about David and the night they shouldn’t have shared together. Sometimes he thinks he still loves David. Sometimes he wonders if he ever really did.

What’s wrong? Blaine just spent a large portion of the previous night with the only person he would describe as his enemy’s cock down his throat, feeling like there was nothing he could say to stop it.

What’s wrong? The King finally called on him for the first time in over a month, and it was because he thought he looked pretty with _Sebastian_.

What _isn’t_ wrong?

“I-” Blaine stutters, eyes wet with tears. “I must have eaten something rotten for dinner yesterday.”

The King does not look like he believes him, but that doesn’t matter to Blaine. He wipes at his eyes and continues, “Would you mind terribly if I… if I returned to my room? I don’t feel…” he sniffs, trying to contain his cries.

The King nods. “Of course. Of course, Blaine. Anything you need. Do you want me to send a medic?”

Blaine shakes his head, though is careful not to move too quickly. His neck feels stiff from the night before, and it just makes him want to cry more.

“Should I walk you back?”

Blaine shakes his head again. The thought of stumbling back through the halls, clinging to the King’s arm for dear life, makes him feel even worse.

Sebastian’s head peeks in through the door, and Blaine can feel bile rise in his throat again.

“I’m going to -” Blaine moves around the King, legs wobbly. He finds his clothes thrown haphazardly around the room and dresses as quickly as his stomach will allow. He can hear Sebastian and the King murmuring. He tries to block them out.

When he's finally dressed he turns to see the King staring at him, eyebrows creases in worry. Blaine swallows thickly, wincing as the acid in his throat forces it's way back.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers. Sebastian is staring at him in a way he can't discern. It doesn't feel judgemental, but who knows? They'd formed a brief alliance last night, but last night is over. He can't imagine Sebastian is feeling anything but glee at the fact that he's not the one rushing to exit the King’s chambers the morning after.

“Don't be,” the King says, running a hand over Blaine’s cheek and into his hair. “I’ll send Mason to check on you later, okay?”

Blaine nods. He turns to look at Sebastian, finds him looking down, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He doesn't meet Blaine’s eyes, thankfully, and Blaine is grateful for at least this small mercy.

He goes to kiss the King goodbye, then thinks better of it. He presses his lips together, nods, and heads out through the servant exit.

The tears start falling again the second the door is closed behind him.

**

If there is somebody in the common room when he reaches the concubine quarters, Blaine doesn’t notice. He hurries straight to the water closet next to his room, goes to the sink, and begins to wash his mouth out with water, desperate to get the taste of vomit and Sebastian out of his mouth. He scrubs his tongue frantically with his fingers, so frantic it makes him gag. He spends at least ten minutes there, scrubbing, gargling, sobbing.

When he feels he cannot stand any longer, he goes to his room and quickly changes into his sleep clothes, dropping face first into his bed.

He feels utterly and completely pathetic. _Sebastian_ didn't react like this. Sebastian was probably making the King feel better right now, probably my sucking him off with the mouth which had only ever sucked off the King. Or getting fucked by the King, in an ass that had only been fucked by the King.

Not like Blaine’s mouth, which has now sucked off Sebastian.

Not like Blaine's ass, which has been fucked by David.

He turns over and buries his face in his pillow, tears falling from his eyes once more.

He's such a failure. He's been given the opportunity of a lifetime, a chance to live a life of luxury, to never work a day in his life. He gets a fantastic room, servants to clean up after him, a magnificent garden at his disposal…

There was only one thing he had to do: be with the King and the King alone.

He couldn't even manage that.

He wouldn't be surprised if the King found out about his night with David, and that's why he made him suck off Sebastian. Why he wanted Sebastian to fuck him. He just needed a real excuse to never see Blaine again.

_“It's just, ever since seeing you with Sebastian, I haven't felt that attracted to you Blaine. I'm sorry.”_

He hadn't even been able to guard his heart. He'd known, as soon as he'd been asked to be a concubine, that he'd never get the chance to marry. He'd never have children, a family. It was no longer in the cards for him.

Yet he still went and fell for Kurt. Kurt who was _betrothed_. Kurt who was the King’s _son_.

He presses the pillow into his face and screams.

**

He lies in bed for over an hour, unable to sleep, unable to stop his mind from going in circles. He wishes desperately that he could just turn his mind off, something that seemed much earlier when he first arrived at the castle.

He wonders when he lost that ability.

 _If only Cooper was here,_ his mind supplies. _He always used to distract you with his narcissism and ability to completely ignore somebody's feelings, no matter how obvious they are._

He sits up, eyes wide.

Cooper _is_ here. In the garden.

Blaine scrambles out of his bed and over to his closet. He grabs the first shirt he sees, briefly noting that it's a little big as he tucks it into his pants. Perhaps with all this worrying about the King and Kurt he's lost weight.

He pulls on a vest as well, just barely remembering that the weather is chilly rather than warm.

Nobody stops him in the common room, which he is thankful for. He does not want to interact with anybody, does not want to explain why he is so frantically searching for his brother, with whom he has a shaky relationship at best.

He tries to walk slower down the garden path, but his frantic eyes and the constant movements of his head must give away his desperation.

It takes at least ten minutes, but he finally finds Cooper trimming bushes with Mercedes

He raises his hand to wave, but Mercedes sees him before Cooper does. “Oh, no.”

She stands and Blaine freezes midstep as she points her sheers at him. Cooper looks up and he grins at the sight of him.

“Blainey!” he says, starting to stand.

“No,” Mercedes puts a hand on Cooper’s shoulder and keeps pointing her sheers at Blaine. “No. I need Cooper right now. We have express orders to keep this garden in perfect condition for the duration of the Prince of Essex’s visit, and I cannot have this one gallivanting off every time a beautiful woman flutters her eyelashes at him, or his brother comes around for a chat.”

Blaine raises his hands in defense. “I was just-”

“I know what you were doing, and the answer is no,” she lowers the sheers and takes a step toward him, face softening. “Look, Blaine, Cooper has told me all about how you two have reconnected recently. I understand, you want to spend time with your brother, I get it. But your brother is here to work, not to walk the gardens with you. I’m sorry, but I need him to stick around with me for now.”

Blaine frowns, glancing at Cooper to see him frowning as well.

“Maybe we can just take five minutes, and-”

Mercedes shakes her head and turns to Cooper, pointing her sheers at him this time. “The last five minute break you took lasted an hour. No, Cooper.”

Blaine sighs. “I understand,” he says. “Is there any way I can just… be with you guys? Keep you company?”

Mercedes gives him a pained smile and shakes her head again. “I’m really sorry, Blaine. I’m trying to train Cooper to be a good castle gardener. I can’t have him distracted all the time, or I’ll never be rid of him.”

“Hey!” Cooper says, frowning at her.

“Oh, like you want to be shadowing me forever,” she doesn’t even look at him, rolling her eyes. She gives Blaine another smile. “Sorry, honey. Next time, okay?”

Blaine sighs, but nods. “I understand.”

Mercedes eyes look past him, over his shoulder, and she smirks. “Although maybe there’s somebody else who might want to keep you company.”

Blaine’s brow furrows and he’s halfway through asking, “Who?” when a familiar voice calls out, “Blaine!”

Blaine freezes, heart stuttering in his chest.

Oh, this is wonderful. Absolutely perfect.

Things had felt okay as he conversed with Mercedes, thoughts nowhere but in the conversation, but as soon as he hears Kurt’s voice it’s like all the pain he’s been feeling all day comes rushing back to him.

Mercedes nods her head toward Kurt, and Blaine shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath. He exhales sharply, then turns to Kurt, opening his eyes as he goes.

He looks as wonderful as ever. Blaine didn’t expect anything else. He’s wearing a light, yet intricately woven, powder blue jacket, and has paired it with a pair of white pants which he’s tucked into his boots. Blaine hates that Kurt looks so wonderful when he himself must look a mess.

“Kurt,” he greets, the word slightly stilted. “How do you do?”

“I -” Kurt glances to Mercedes and Cooper, then back to Blaine. “I don’t know. Can we… can we talk?”

Blaine shrugs. “There’s a bench over there,” he points to it.

“Nope,” Mercedes pipes up. “Both of you, out of here. I don’t even want to see you. I can’t have Cooper distracted by not just his brother but also the Prince. No way.”

Kurt smiles and her and nods. “Of course. Come, Blaine, I know exactly where we can talk.”

Blaine glances back and Mercedes and Cooper desperately, hoping that Mercedes will have suddenly changed her mind. She just smirks at him and waves him along.

He follows Kurt down the path in silence, keeping his eyes on the ground. He can feel his heart racing and his mind is whirring rapidly.

He doesn’t want to talk to Kurt. Not after the previous day. Not after the previous _night_. In fact, aside from Sebastian, Kurt is the absolute last person that Blaine wants to talk to.

They turn off onto a smaller section of the path, which eventually leads them a small sitting area. There are four benches, which surrounded a white marble fountain, rose bushes covering every green part of the area.

“Here.” Instead of sitting on one of the benches, Kurt goes to the fountain itself and sits delicately on the edge. He pats the spot beside him, smiling cautiously at Blaine. Blaine doesn’t smile back, but still goes to sit beside him.

They sit in silence, just as they’d walked. Blaine refuses to look at Kurt, instead keeping his eyes on his lap, or taking in their surroundings. It’s truly a beautiful little spot. Blaine loves these little sitting areas, which are scattered throughout the gardens. He doesn’t think he’s ever been to this one, though.

“My mother used to come here a lot,” Kurt says, breaking the silence. “One of her old concubines, she… she always said that the roses reminded her of my mother.”

“Your mother had concubines as well?” Blaine asks. It seems a silly question, as most royals have concubines.

“Of course,” Kurt says. “Only two. She loved them dearly.”

Blaine turns to look at Kurt. “What happened to them? You know, when she…”

“Passed?” Kurt finishes, raising an eyebrow. Blaine blushes. “You don’t need to censor yourself around me Blaine. It happened a long time ago.” Blaine nods. “They’re still here,” he continues, answering Blaine’s question.

“They are?” Blaine asks, heart feeling slightly lighter. The fear of what would happen to him should the King pass was not one he had thought of in some time, but it is nice to know that he will not be thrown from the castle before the King’s body is cold.

“Yes,” Kurt says. “One still resides in the concubine quarters. He isn’t seen much. The other begged Father to be trained to fight and was given a new title. But you already knew that,” he winks at Blaine, and Blaine presses his lips together to stop from revealing that no, in fact, he did not know that.

One thing he _does_ understand about what Kurt has just said. “Bryan,” he whispers.

Kurt nods. “He… he did not take my mother’s passing well. As I said, she loved her concubines dearly, and they loved her in return. Bryan was her first concubine and he… well, as I said, he isn’t seen much.”

Blaine thinks of the man who only comes out for dinners, who spends most of said dinner sipping from a flask, never speaking to any of them.

His heart fills with sympathy.

“I see,” Blaine whispers.

They fall into silence once more.

Blaine picks at the skin around his thumb, trying to think of something to say.

Once again, though, it is Kurt who breaks the silence. “I’m sorry, Blaine,” he says, voice quiet. “I… I shouldn’t have given you that book.”

Blaine frowns, a brief surge of anger spiking through him at Kurt’s words. He turns to Kurt, unswayed by the open and honest look in Kurt’s eyes.

“Is that all that you’re sorry for?” he bites out.

“Blaine,” Kurt sighs and shakes his head. “I’m not - What I did with Adam, it was my _duty_.”

“Not yet,” Blaine says, glaring sharply.

“But still-”

“But still nothing,” Blaine says, turning so that his body is completely facing Kurt. He can’t believe that this is what Kurt wanted to talk to him about. “You couldn’t have waited at least a week between giving me that damned book and fucking somebody else?”

The swear word leaves his lips like a bullet. He feels emboldened by it, his rage building. He’s never sworn so brazenly outside the bedroom before.

“That’s not fair,” Kurt says. “It’s not like you and I…” he shakes his head, trailing off. He glares at Blaine and says, “You haven’t exactly been celibate either.”

Blaine’s skin bristles, an angry shiver running down his spine. “What is that supposed to mean?” he hisses out.

“It means,” Kurt says, “that I know all about your little tryst with my father and the other concubine.”

Just like that, all the anger drains out of Blaine’s body, instantly replaced by a paralyzing fear.

“You - You know?” He stutters around the words. “Who - Does everybody -?”

Kurt’s frosty demeanour vanishes, and he shuffles closer to Blaine. “Just me,” he says. “The guards… I am friendly with one of them, and he thought it would be amusing to disgust me by telling me tales of my father’s sexual exploits. I made him swear not to tell another soul. I promise.”

Blaine covers his face with his hands. “But _you_ know. Oh, god.” He can feel tears welling in his eyes, and he instantly misses the anger he felt only moments ago. Anything is better than the shame flowing through him.

“It’s - I’m sorry, Blaine. I shouldn’t have said - That was a low blow.”

Blaine turns to him, eyes blazing, tears starting to drip down his cheeks. “A _low blow_?” Blaine practically screeches. “You think I _wanted_ that?! You think I wanted to have sex with someone who _hates me_?! You think that’s anywhere near what you did with the Prince of Essex?!”

Kurt freezes. His eyes are wide. “You didn’t want it?”

Blaine scoffs and shakes his head.

Kurt puts a hand on his arm, and despite the situation it comforts Blaine. He hates that that’s the effect it has on him. “Blaine. Look at me.” Blaine does. “Did my father… did he… force you?”

Blaine shakes his head again. “You’re so naive,” he says. “You know, after the way you treated Brittany when she was angry at you, I thought you were different. I thought you _understood_.”

“Blaine!” Kurt sounds more urgent this time. “Did my father force you to have sex with him and Sebastian?”

“No, okay! I consented. There, does that make you feel better?”

Kurt’s face hardens. “Consenting and not saying no are not the same things.”

Tears are now streaming heavily down Blaine’s face. He shakes his head again and looks away. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“No, Blaine, it isn’t. If my father is forcing you-”

“Oh, like you were forced to sleep with Adam?” Blaine shoots back, wanting to direct the conversation elsewhere. “Because it’s your ‘duty’?”

Kurt straightens up, and looks about to retort, but stops himself. Instead he slumps his shoulders and looks away. “That isn’t fair, Blaine.”

“Oh? So it’s fair for you to throw my _actual duties_ as your father’s concubine in my face, but it’s not fair for me to call bullshit on your excuse?”

“It isn’t fair that you’re acting like you don’t know,” Kurt snaps. “That you’re poking and prodding me into saying this out loud.”

“That’s not what I’m-”

“Look, I slept with Adam because he wasn’t you, okay?” Kurt says, voice surprisingly soft. It de escalates the feelings coursing through Blaine’s veins, though the tears continue to fall. “I slept with him because all I could think about was _you_. I gave you that stupid book, and I instantly regretted it, and I just wanted a distraction. I was trying to prove that I… that I could be with someone who isn’t you.”

“You slept with Adam because you wanted to,” Blaine says.

“I slept with Adam to stop myself from thinking about you for more than three seconds.”

Blaine shakes his head and turns away from Kurt. “You think I’m supposed to just accept that?”

“It’s the truth.”

“It’s a _line_ , Kurt. Oh, how romantic, you couldn’t stop thinking about me so you fucked somebody else. Take me now.” He rolls his eyes.

“It’s the _truth_ ,” Kurt repeats. “I don’t know what you want from me, Blaine!”

More tears spring to Blaine’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” he says.

“Of course it matters.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he turns back to Kurt, glaring. “Because at the end of the day I’m still your father’s concubine, and you’re still marrying _him_. So, no, it really doesn’t matter.”

“Then why are you so angry?!” Kurt shouts. “If it doesn’t matter, why are you-”

“Why do you think?!” Blaine shouts back, standing up, hands flying into the air. “Why do you think I’ve been spending so much time with you? Why do you think I continued our friendship, even though we both knew we shouldn’t? Why do you think I watch you train - I watch you _train_ , for god’s sake, Kurt - for hours?”

His hands ball into fists, angry, desperate tears streaming down his face. He feels like a damn burst inside of him, and all he wants to do is scream.

Kurt stands as well. He puts a hand on Blaine’s shoulder, and Blaine brushes him off. He doesn’t try again.

“Me too,” Kurt whispers. “I - Me too, Blaine. I feel it, too. This thing, between us.”

“Then why did you sleep with-?!”

Kurt groans. “I already _told you_ -”

“That was a bad excuse, Kurt,” Blaine glares at him.

“I told you, I don’t know what you _want from me_.”

“Better than that!” Blaine shouts.

Kurt stares at him, eyes blazing as wildly as Blaine’s.

Then, he closes the distance between them, and presses his lips to Blaine’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you all in two weeks!  
> [ rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/147099586365/one-of-five-1313)

**Author's Note:**

> [ rebloggable on tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/145022078190/one-of-five-113)


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